Invisibility
by Krisian Rose
Summary: We all saw Quatermain shoot Sanderson Reed, right? Wrong. COMPLETE!
1. Old Foes

**Disclaimer:**I don't own any of these characters (darn), except Cabrilyn (cuz I made her up!), but you won't meet her till the next chapter. *Sigh*

A/N: Ok, so this is my first attempt at an LXG fanfic. Constructive criticism is welcome, praise too.

* * *

            Wilhelmina Harker stood as if in a trance, staring at the empty place on the wall where Dorian Gray's portrait once hung. _'Lust…'_ she reminded herself for the millionth time. _'I never loved Dorian… I lusted after him… there's a difference…' _Still, she couldn't help but miss him. Her thoughts were cut short when someone brushed by her. She turned around and saw no one. "Put some clothes on Skinner," she said almost mechanically. She said that often in the course of the last few months. In fact, those five words had become constants in _everyone's _vocabulary while they were living aboard the Nautilus. It was Skinner's favorite game to sneak around, pestering the crew and the rest of the League.

            Mina turned her attention back to the empty spot on the wall and sighed. Part of her wished she'd protested when it was suggested the League stay in Dorian's old mansion while they were in London. Sometime during their recent travels, a record was delivered to the Nautilus. After their previous experience with strange records, the last thing Nemo wanted was to put his "Lady" in danger again. They had held a meeting, discussing the record and what to do about it…

*   *   *

            "Don't mess with it 'til we're on land again, and well out of harm's way," Tom Sawyer said, shuddering as he recalled their previous encounter with a strange record and a lot of bombs. "That's my suggestion."

            Nemo agreed readily, as did the rest of the League and the few crewmembers present. "We will put into port as soon as possible."  Nemo said, beckoning one of the crew to him. "What is the nearest port?"

            The man checked a few maps. "London, cap'n," he replied.

            Nemo raised a dark brow. "London?"

            Dr. Jekyll quickly protested. "I can't go back to London. I… well, Hyde," he cringed slightly at the name, "Well, _we_ are wanted men."

            "Certainly there must be some solution," Mina put in.

            "Hey, I got it. What about Gray's old place?"

*   *   *__

            Sawyer's suggestion seemed reasonable enough. Dorian had paid off the building _years_ ago, and Skinner could easily pick the lock and get them inside. The mansion was spacious and comfortable, and next to the water – the perfect location really. Mina, however, had gone silent at Sawyer's idea. Jekyll had asked if she had any objections, and she managed a good strong "no." Now that they were here, now that _she_ was here, staring at the blank, dusty wall, she wasn't sure if she could manage. She shook her head harshly. _'Lust… not love…'_ she told herself again. _'I _loved_ Jonathan, I didn't love Dorian…'_

            "Mina?"

            Mina turned sharply. Dr. Jekyll, clad in his usual neat suit and tie, was standing at the top of the stairs leading to the library.

            "Are you all right?" He asked gently, stepping down a few stairs.

            "I'm fine Henry," she replied shortly. Jekyll had been her self-appointed caretaker since the League left Kenya, and, though she didn't want to admit it, she enjoyed the doctor's company. He reminded her of Jonathan in some ways. Like the way he looked at her… She shook her head again, brushing her feelings aside for the moment.

            "They're getting ready to play that record," he said, offering her a hand, "Shall we?"

            "I can manage, thank you." Mina swept past him. She didn't mean to be rude, but she had so many things on her mind, the last thing she needed right now was a distraction.

            Jekyll slid his hands into his pockets and sighed. Just when he thought he was getting closer, Mina would push him away. He couldn't blame her, though. She had her own demons to deal with, and he had his. He felt someone brush past him, going up the stairs. Jekyll issued another sigh, "Put some clothes on Skinner."

*   *   *

            The library was still somewhat chaotic after their hasty clean up the last time they were there. Papers still lay strewn about the floor, along with the occasional book or random plate of armor, left by M's gunmen. Mina took a seat in the arm of Dorian's old chair, in which Tom was currently sitting. "Ready?" He asked, cautiously placing the needle on the record. There was static for a moment, then a voice, loud and clear.

_            "Ah, the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. You are a difficult bunch to track down but I've found you…"_

            Tom gaped. He _knew_ that voice…

_            "… I do wish I were there to see the look on your young American friend's face. Thought I was dead, didn't you?"_ The voice chuckled, as if the owner of it could see Tom's flabbergasted expression. _"Well, obviously I'm not, and now all that was M's is mine! You won't be able to stop me… stop me… stop me… stop me…"_ The record began skipping furiously, like a badly placed dramatic echo.

            Tom shut off the skipping record; he didn't want to hear another word. Four pairs of eyes stared at him curiously. 

            "Well, Tom?" Everyone seemed to ask at once. "Who was it?"

            "Sanderson Reed."

* * *

A/N: So there! Well, that's my first chapter. Do let me know what you think!


	2. New Friends

A/N: Ok, so here doth be my second chapter. (Like my Shakespeare talk?) Again, constructive criticism welcome, but please don't be mean!

* * *

            Skinner thrust his gloved hands into his coat pockets. He couldn't believe what he was hearing… Sanderson Reed was alive – how was anybody's guess – and he had access to M's weapons, and something far, _far_ worse. Invisibility. Sanderson Reed was invisible, just like Skinner. "So much for keeping the franchise," he commented in his sarcastic-tinged Cockney accent.

            Mina shot him a stern glance. "We've far bigger things to worry about than your career, Skinner."

            Skinner raised a white-painted brow, but kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to find himself on Mina's bad side, she'd been irritable since they arrived, and Skinner knew if he pushed his luck too much, he'd find himself on the wrong end of a pair of fangs.

            Tom broke the silence, "We have to figure out where Reed is. Better yet, _why_ he sent us this thing." He tapped a finger on the record.

            "Well, obviously it didn't set off any bombs," Skinner said lightly. He was glad to have not been around for the first incident, and glad to have avoided a repeat performance. 

            Mina raised an eyebrow. "Obviously."

            "You know," Skinner mused, ignoring Mina's remark. "He could be in this room right now, and we'd never know it."

            "Skinner…" Now Tom was starting to sound irritated.

            Skinner shrugged. "All I'm saying is it's bloody hard to hunt down a madman that we can't see. I should know – I gave the cops the slip quite a bit in the good ol' days." He chuckled.

            "We might be able to see him," Jekyll said, "Under certain circumstances. Like…"

            "Snow," Mina said sourly, recalling her encounter with Skinner in Mongolia. Skinner grinned mischievously. "You have to admit, it _was_ funny… well, _I_ enjoyed it."

            Mina ignored him. "Maybe even rain," she suggested.

            "Yeah," Tom sighed, "But Reed ain't stupid. He'll steer clear of anything that would blow his cover." His eyes turned again to the record. A million questions formed in his mind.

            "Are you sure about that?" Skinner said. "He seems pretty stupid. If I were him, I wouldn't go telling everybody and their brother that I was back in business. I'd go about my business quietly, like a good invisible man."

            "You? Quiet?"

            Skinner glared a Mina through his shades. Her moodiness was catching. They would all be at each other's throats if they didn't pull together. After a year of trying to forget about M and world war, here it was again. Shoved back into their faces, and no Allan Quatermain to lead them. The position of leader had pretty much been left alone since Quatermain's death. They felt no urgent need to fill the position, except now they'd been caught off guard – leaderless and bickering.

            Jekyll watched Skinner and Mina stare at each other in contempt. "Stop it, both of you," he said sharply. "The last thing we need right now is to fall apart. We have got to work together."

            "Well, aren't you just a ray of sunshine?" The words escaped Skinner's mouth before he could stop them.

            "Skinner, _shut up!"_ Mina and Tom chorused.

            "Arguing amongst ourselves will do us no good," Nemo said sternly. "I suggest we regroup in one half hour."

            "Sounds good to me." Skinner swept up his hat and was out the door before anyone could stop him.

*   *   *

            Skinner sighed, his breath visible in the chilly night air. They had all acted so _childish_, himself included. They'd all gotten to know each other like siblings, which was good except now they were bickering like siblings instead of working together. Tensions were high, that was plain, and their choice of location could not have helped Mina's mood much. He leaned against the cold bricks of the late Dorian Gray's home, and just let his mind wander.

            He must have dozed, for the next thing he knew someone was prodding his chest, saying, "Sir? Are you all right? Sir?" Skinner snapped into wakefulness, batting away his tormenter like a bothersome insect. "I'm all right already!" He said, obviously peeved at the rude manner he'd been woken up. He shifted his glasses irritably, but when he laid eyes on his tormentor, he was taken aback. It was a young woman, a _very_ pretty one. Even through his shades, she was fair, with long golden blond hair that fell around her shoulders. What struck Skinner as odd, though, was her wardrobe – her coat specifically. It was an incredibly thick, heavy winter coat lined with fur and extending down to the ground. _'Perhaps she's from someplace warm,'_ he reasoned. _'I don't much care for the cold myself.'_

            "I'm terribly sorry," she said. Her voice was a soft, beautiful alto. "But I thought you were dead. You weren't moving, and your skin, it's so _white…"_

            It took Skinner a moment to realize she wasn't referring to his _real_ skin, but to the cream he used on his face to make it visible. "Oh, that… it's just a cream…"

            "Yes," the girl replied. "I figured that out." She held up a hand, her fingertips had the remnants of cream on them. "I _am_ sorry, sir."

            "Oh, s'ok. My name's Rodney, by the way, Rodney Skinner." He removed his hat and gave a lavish bow. 

            "I'm Cabrilyn," She said. "Just Cabrilyn."

            Skinner raised a brow. "Cabrilyn? What sort of a name is Cabrilyn?"

            "I don't know. What sort of grown man goes about wearing makeup?" Cabrilyn asked coolly.

            "Ooh, touché. Now, what's a pretty thing like your self do…?" The remainder of Skinner's sentence was cut off by an eruption of shouts and gunfire from inside. "Oh, bloody hell!" Skinner quickly forgot Cabrilyn and wiped the cream from his face furiously. He discarded his coat, hat, glasses and gloves and made a mad dash for the door. Cabrilyn followed closely.

            "You'd best stay out here," Skinner called over his shoulder. "Guard my coat or something."

            Cabrilyn stopped in her tracks. "_Guard his coat?_ Argh!" She waited until Skinner was out of sight, and then continued her pursuit muttering, "Guard his coat… some men!"


	3. Under Attack

A/N: All right, so here's my third chapter. It'll take me a while to get my fourth one up and running. (It consists of a whole two sentences right now.) But, Spring Break is coming up. I'm sure I'll find time to work on it then.

* * *

            Only moments before, Tom had been sitting in Dorian's old chair, flipping absentmindedly through the pages of a book when he got a sudden chill. It crept right up his spine. He couldn't help but shiver visibly, and it saved his life. Had he not moved, the bullet would've struck his heart, but, thanks to chance, it buried itself in his shoulder instead.

            "Gah!" Tom yelled, forgetting the book, he clamped a hand over the wound.

            Jekyll was at his side in an instant. "Tom! What happened?"

            "I… I don't know… that bullet came outa nowhere." Tom glanced at his wound. Brilliant red blood was seeping though his fingers. Suddenly, he recalled Skinner's earlier words, _"He could be in this room right now, and we'd never know it…"_ "Reed," Tom said angrily. "It's gotta be Reed."

            Jekyll pried Tom's hand away from the gunshot wound. "Just hold on, let me have a look…" As the doctor inspected his shoulder, Tom caught sight of a book, a rather large one, floating in mid-air. His first impulse was to say, 'Put some clothes on Skinner,' but he quickly realized that it might not _be_ Skinner. "Doctor!" Tom scarce got the word out before the book landed Jekyll a hefty blow to the back of his head, rendering him senseless. Tom drew a gun from his holster with his good arm and took aim at the book, but it was no longer floating. The attacker had fled.

            Mina, followed shortly by Nemo, strode in from the general direction of the kitchen. "What's going on? We heard shouting."

            "Get down!" Tom shouted as the bullets started flying. He dove behind the chair, pulling Jekyll along with him. Bullets were coming from _everywhere_. "Damn Reed," he cursed. "He's made an invisible army!" Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, Tom drew his other gun and peeked over the top of the chair. Every once and a while he'd catch sight of what appeared to be a floating gun, but these guys were smart, they'd found some means of camouflaging their weapons. He would just have to shoot blindly and hope to hit something.

            "Sawyer!" Nemo called from behind a nearby bookcase. "Can you make it?"

            Tom nodded shortly. He grabbed the unconscious doctor and made a mad dash behind the bookcases. He stumbled in beside Nemo and Mina, having received a wound to his leg. The shooting ceased – the invisible intruders knew they had their quarry cornered, and the League knew they were cornered. They couldn't fight what they couldn't see – it was only a matter of time now.

            At the sight of Jekyll's limp form, Mina let out a gasp. "Is he…?"

            "He's fine, just unconscious." Tom cringed as he sunk down to both knees. "Good thing they can't shoot strait." Once again, he clamped his hand over the wound in his shoulder, which was bleeding quite freely now.

            Mina tore strips from the hem of her skirt and to make makeshift bandages for her American friend. Tom winced slightly as she tightened the bandage around his leg.

            "Well, this is a predicament." The voice came from nowhere. Nemo drew his sword in an instant. "Woa, hold on there," Skinner's unmistakable accented voice stated. "It's only me."

            "Perhaps you should learn not to sneak up on people," Nemo said, sheathing his sword.

            Skinner made a face, knowing full well Nemo couldn't see him, and moved next to Tom. "So, what've we got?"

            "Reed's invisible gunmen. I have no clue how many there are, or where they're at. You?"

            "Hey, just because _I'm_ invisible, doesn't make _them_ any easier to see." Skinner said shortly. He got up and stepped around the bookcase. _'Where the hell are they?'_ he wondered, searching the upper level of the library. He knew there was no possible way they could've made their weapons invisible. _'Some clever paint job or other,'_ he decided.

            Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced the ominous silence of the library. Numerous guns cocked and Skinner decided it would be best to head back to the safety of the bookshelf. Several snickers issued from the unseen gunmen. Tom poked his head around the case. "Who the hell is that?" he asked in a harsh whisper. Skinner peeked around. "Oh God! Cabrilyn!"

*   *   *

            Cabrilyn stood on the staircase, a large burlap sack filled to capacity sat beside her on the floor. She heard Skinner let out a gasp of, "Oh God! Cabrilyn!" Beyond that, she paid him little notice. The gunmen snickered – who did this fool girl in a fur coat think she was? Very slowly and cautiously, so as not to be seen, Cabrilyn reached down and drew a dagger from its holster on her thigh.

            "Now, ain't that sweet? She's come to save her 'lil friends!" One of the gunmen guffawed, obviously seeing no threat in Cabrilyn. That was his unfortunate mistake.

            Like lightning, Cabrilyn let the dagger fly. There was the dull, sickening sound of steel on flesh, and then the gunman sighed, gurgled and fell headlong from the second level with Cabrilyn's knife in his throat. The gunfire started almost immediately. Cabrilyn shed her coat and drew a sword that was sheathed across her back. Grabbing the burlap sack, she did a flying leap of off the balcony. In mid-air, she sliced the sack open and swung it around for all she was worth. Flour went everywhere. It coated Cabrilyn, the League and their attackers. Empty sack in hand, Cabrilyn landed in an almost cat-like way next to the League's bookshelf. "Skinner, get your coat," she said, moving to avoid gunfire. "You'll be fair game if you don't." She drew a second sword, also sheathed across her back.

            Skinner rushed off, while the rest of the League, save Jekyll, who was still unconscious, leapt into the fray. Tom came out firing, a gun in each hand. Adrenaline had taken over, and his wounds were forgotten. Nemo lashed out, punching, kicking, and taking out any that were unfortunate to get near him. Mina took to the air, getting her fill of blood for the evening. Skinner soon reappeared, but he felt rather useless all covered in flour and wearing his coat. He did what he could nonetheless. They made short work of their formerly unseen attackers.

            Tom sighed and flopped down in Dorian's old chair, which had more bullet holes in it now than before. A cloud of flour rose up around him, sprinkling his sweat-streaked face anew. His makeshift bandages weren't doing him much good anymore; blood was seeping through the dark fabric of Mina's skirt. Cabrilyn calmly shook the flour from her hair and retrieved her dagger. She pulled a kerchief from her pocket and cleaned both her swords and her dagger before re-sheathing them. Skinner dusted the flour from his black leather coat. "Charming," he said. "Shall we bake some brownies next?"

            Mina came down beside him, rolling her eyes. She pulled out her compact and made sure there were no traces of blood left on her fair face. "Honestly Skinner, sometimes you…" She was cut off by a loud groan as Jekyll came from around the bookcase coated in flour and rubbing the back of his head. "What happened?" he asked. He squinted at Cabrilyn. "Who are you?"

            She smiled and was about to issue a reply when something caught her eye. "Don't move," she said, her tone was grave. Jekyll froze; his eyes darted around the room. Cabrilyn let loose her dagger, it swept past Jekyll's ear in a blur of silver and steel, followed by a gasp and a gurgle. Jekyll turned around just in time to have the dead invisible man fall into his arms. "Good Lord!" Jekyll cried. He jumped back and dropped the body to the floor. Flour swirled upward, covering the man – who had remained untouched by flour until then. Skinner gaped. She could _see_ them. He was certain of it. Somehow that man had escaped the flour, but still, Cabrilyn _saw_ him.

            Jekyll withdrew Cabrilyn's dagger very slowly. "You have quite the aim."

            "Thank you," Cabrilyn said. She took the dagger from him and cleaned it. "I _never _miss."

            "Really?" Tom said, touchily removing his bandages. "I still want to know… who are you?"

            Cabrilyn smirked at the young American. "Are you certain 'who' is the question you should be asking?"


	4. Leaders and Leads

A/N: I had this done a while ago, but the website was being stupid. *sigh* Computers – can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em… Anyway…

Chapter four: _The Origin of Cabrilyn _(j/k!) Well, as you will see, the story of Cabrilyn isn't from any book (at least not any book _I've_ read) I made it all up. If it sounds like something from a novel, or anything else for that matter, then it's by pure, freakish coincidence. Anyway, movin' right along…

* * *

            Tom raised an eyebrow. He wasn't entirely sure if he trusted this newcomer, regardless of the fact she just saved all of their lives. After all, Dorian had been a willing participant in the last battle, and he turned out to be a spy. "Well then, tell me, which question _should_ I be asking?"

            "What," Jekyll said. "_What _are you? It's a question I know all too well." He didn't notice, but Mina had started slightly at the question – it reminded her of Dorian, and the first time she learned he was an immortal… or, rather that he was "complicated."

            Cabrilyn chuckled and seated herself in another chair, also peppered with bullet holes. "I'm a bit of a mistake actually," she said. "An experiment gone wrong, you might say." 

            _That _peaked Jekyll's interest – he was finding he had more in common with this newcomer than he first thought. He listened intently as he took to nursing Tom's wounds.

            Cabrilyn continued, "I was just a regular girl, of not more than eighteen when I lost my sight," she shrugged. "I still don't know how it happened. I just woke up one day and couldn't see. My parents were crushed, you see, I was well on my way to becoming an accomplished artist, and, well, you can't paint if you can't see. They invested everything they had into finding a cure. An eccentric scientist by the name of Doctor Owen said he'd help me… he nearly killed me is what he did," she paused, more for dramatic emphasis than anything. She could easily tell this story. After all, she'd been telling it for nearly twelve years now. The emotional points had dulled over the years and now it seemed as distant and surreal to her as a fairy story. "That man was a maniac – mad as hell. 

            "Anyway, the day of the operation arrived. Owen succeeded in restoring my sight, but decided to try out his latest piece of technology on my brain in the meantime. Some sort of mind-control mechanism or other… like I said, mad as hell. Of course, it didn't work properly, fried me from the inside out. All I really remember is waking up in a hospital morgue." She shuddered. That _still _gave her the creeps. "Ever since then, I've never been… _me_… I can see things others can't, I can do things others can't. I'm not normal, that's for sure."

            "Ha," Skinner laughed. "Join the club." Cabrilyn shot him a glance. She was still peeved about the "guard my coat" remark.

            "Amazing," Jekyll breathed. "You came back from the dead?"

            "I not exactly sure I _was_ dead," Cabrilyn replied. "Comatose probably… in some odd way that made it _seem_ I was dead."

            "Very _Romeo and Juliet_," Mina commented. "I have a question, though. How is it you found us?"

            "I've been looking for you for nearly a year now. I lost your trail in Paris months ago and returned to London. I was able to track you down here because, well, no offense captain, but that ship of yours is fairly hard to miss." She shrugged, "I just happened to be in the right place at the right time I guess. You see – I want to join the League."

            "To want to _ah_…" Tom inhaled sharply. "Take it easy, would ya?"

            Jekyll blinked absentmindedly. "Huh? Oh, sorry Tom." He loosened the bandage on Tom's leg.

            "Anyway Cabrilyn, it _is_ Cabrilyn isn't it?" Tom said. Cabrilyn nodded. "What makes you think we'll let you join?"

            Cabrilyn raised an eyebrow at this. "I figure you owe it to me. You'd all be dead right now if I hadn't shown up."

            "Maybe not _all_ of us," Skinner said mockingly. "But the rest of you would be looking like Swiss cheese."

            "Do shut up Skinner," Mina sighed. She turned to Tom. "We do owe her our lives."

            Jekyll finished his work on Tom's leg and stood. "Mina, you of all people should remember…"

            "Don't say it," she said shortly. "I know what you're all getting at – Dorian."

            "Dorian?" Cabrilyn noticed the expression in Mina's eyes and decided not to inquire any further. _This _subject was a touchy one. Best leave it alone for now.

            "A spy," Tom said. He threw a mindful glance at Mina before continuing. Her face was hard and expressionless. "He um… sold the League, I guess you could say, for his own gain."

            "I see," Cabrilyn said, rising to her feet. "Let me put it this way. I do not work for evil, nor do I look to profit from it. I've been given a second chance at life and I want to use it to do what I can for good."

            "Well, that was inspiring," Skinner commented sarcastically. "I feel I should go do some good now."

            "Skinner…" Mina said warningly. She moved her gaze to Tom, still seated in Dorian's chair. "Well?"

            Tom's eyebrows shot up. "What are you all looking at me for? It's not like what I say goes – I'm not the leader here."

            "Really?" Cabrilyn said. "I rather thought you were. You have that air about you."

            Tom didn't seem entirely convinced. After all, on their last mission, he had just been the inexperienced boy. Then again, on their last mission, they also had Allan Quatermain. It all seemed so long ago…

            Nemo let out a soft chuckle. "You know, she's right. Whether you want to or not, you seem to take command." The others nodded in agreement.

            "I do?" There was a moment where no one, not even Skinner, said anything. A look of realization came over Tom's face. He had grown, and the others saw it and they all knew he was capable enough to lead them. 

            After a while, Mina said softly. "She's earned a chance." Tom nodded. "All right, Cabrilyn, welcome to the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen." Cabrilyn beamed. Tom held up a warning finger. "This is only a trial run. You'll be under tight surveillance."

            The moment was interrupted by a loud crash. Everyone jumped, half expecting a new fleet of invisible gunmen. Instead, they found Skinner on the floor beneath an overturned table. "Oh," he groaned, hauling himself up. He kicked at the flour-dusted body he'd just tripped over. Mina stifled her laughter. Skinner shot her a sideways glance. "Ha, ha," he said dryly. "Now, can we clean this up? It's dangerous."

*   *   *

            Nemo absentmindedly turned the record over in his hands. He was still baffled about what its purpose was. He sat down in a nearby chair. The bodies, and most of the flour and debris, had since been cleared from the room. The others were seeing about supper.

            "Captain?"

            Nemo looked up. It was Cabrilyn, closely followed by two of Nemo's crewmembers. They were part of the "tight surveillance" Tom had talked about. "What's that you've got?" she asked.

            "This is a message from Reed. I'm still not sure _why_ he sent it to us." He flipped the record over again, as if he expected to find something that hadn't been there before.

            "I see. Mind if I have a listen?"

            Nemo shrugged. "If you want."

            Cabrilyn set the record on the gramophone, which suffered from only a few bullet holes, and set it going._ "Ah, the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. You are a difficult bunch to track down but I've found you… I do wish I were there to see the look on your young American friend's face. Thought I was dead, didn't you…? Well, obviously I'm not, and now all that was M's is mine! You won't be able to stop me… stop me… stop me… stop me…" _Nemo reached over to shut off the gramophone. 

            "Hold on there," Cabrilyn said, giving the gramophone an annoyed look. "All it needs is a good whack." She smacked it sharply on the side. The record issued a scratching noise then continued on. _"I have great plans for building my new empire… great plans, and as I see it, you won't be around ruin them, so I may as well tell you. _

_            "You see, as you are listening to this, a score of my best gunmen are making ready to end your miserable lives. Don't bother looking for them; you won't be able to see them anyway. You have your dear friend Dorian Gray to thank for that, and I suppose Mr. Skinner is deserving of a thank-you as well."_ Reed chuckled darkly._ "I suggest you stay put and listen. One move and my men will waste no time on wasting you."_ Cabrilyn shot Nemo an 'is-this-new-to-you' look. Nemo was intent on the record and paid her no notice. 

            _"No arms race this time, oh no. I have the plans, and the technology to start a war of my own. I can create enough invisible soldiers to serve my purpose. We will move on America first. Washington D.C. It will be an easy target. Poor unsuspecting America… Now, you've all wasted your last minutes listening to me go on about something you can't stop."_ Reed chuckled again. _"**That** must be torture…"_ the record cut promptly to static.

            At that moment, Tom came in. He walked with a slight limp due to the wound in his leg. "What was that?" He asked, claiming reign over Dorian's chair again. He glanced at the gramophone and stopped the record. "Discover anything new?"

            "Indeed," Nemo said. "Make ready, Mr. Sawyer. We are heading to America."

* * *

A/N: Ok, so here's the scoop. Obviously, I can pump out chapters pretty fast, but I have a math teacher whose purpose is to make my life miserable. Yay calculus. (Note the sarcasm.) Plus, I'm in a play that takes up most of my time. (If I only had a laptop!) But, as I said earlier, Spring Break is a mere week away, and I can probably do a chapter a day if my mother doesn't have me cleaning house, or if I'm not at rehearsal. So, it'll take a while, but the chapters will start pouring in! (And there was much rejoicing. *yay* Sorry, a little Monty Python there.)


	5. Acting Up

A/N: Hooray for weekends! (That and my off-hour provided the time for me to finish this chapter!) Hey, it seems I've found a few Monty Python fans! *yay!* Anyway – here's my fifth chapter, full of Skinner mischief for your reading pleasure…

* * *

            America loomed on the horizon. Tom leaned against the railing of the Nautilus, staring at the skyline of his home country. It seemed like he'd been gone for years, when in actuality, it had only been a few months. _'Why America?_' Tom wondered. He'd been asking himself that since they left London. He was hoping that their travels would take the League to America, but never under such circumstances. He heard the door open behind him. Jekyll, Mina and Cabrilyn, accompanied by her two guards, stepped out into the sun.

            "Hello Tom," Cabrilyn said, brushing away a blond lock of hair that had blown across her face. She followed his gaze. "How long have you been gone?"

            Tom shrugged. "Few months." He took a deep breath, taking in the fresh, salt-tinged, sea air.

            Cabrilyn leaned on the rail. "I've never been to America," she commented, not really expecting a reply. She didn't get one. The only sound was the sea as the Nautilus cut through it. Nemo was right to have called it "The Sword of the Ocean." At length, Cabrilyn sighed, and without taking her gaze from the horizon, said, "Don't even try it, Skinner." Tom glanced over his shoulder. There was nothing there, at least, nothing he could see.

            "Aw," Skinner said. "I thought I had you." Skinner had made it his mission to sneak up on Cabrilyn and catch her off guard. Thus far, he'd been unsuccessful.

            Tom sighed. "Put some clothes on Skinner."

            "Put some clothes on," Skinner said, mocking Tom's accent. "Put some clothes on. That's all I ever hear from you people." He sauntered over to the door and retrieved his coat that he'd left just inside. "Ah, land of the free," he sighed, looking at the approaching American shore. "Home of the brave… target for the maniacs…"

            "Be_ quiet_ Skinner," Tom snapped.

            Skinner threw his hands up defensively. "All right, all right. Sorry." He leaned against the railing beside Cabrilyn. "Some people can't take a joke, ya' know," he muttered to her.

            She rolled her eyes. "Honestly Skinner. You can be so…"

            "What? Charming? Handsome? Well dressed?"

            "I was _going _to say rude, but you can believe whatever you want," Cabrilyn replied. She turned and walked away. Skinner thoroughly annoyed her – always following her around, trying to sneak up on her all the time. He was grating on her last nerve.

            "Ooh, ouch," Tom commented.

            Skinner shot him a sideways glance. "Some people," he muttered. Cabrilyn's attitude was grating on _his_ hast nerve.

            Jekyll came up beside them. "Why do you insist on tormenting her?" He asked, glancing at Cabrilyn who was across the deck chatting with Mina.

            "Just to see how long it'll take her to snap," Skinner said.

            "Not a wise idea to anger someone who can see you," Jekyll replied. "Especially someone as deadly with a blade as her."

            Tom chuckled. "Yeah, she'll cut you to pieces."

            "And what, pray tell, is so funny about that?" Skinner asked indignantly.

            "It seems, Skinner," Jekyll said. "You've finally met your match."

*   *   *   

            All was quiet in front of the White House. Cabrilyn peered down from the lush green branches of her hiding spot. She was on reconnaissance, since she was the only one who could see what they were up against. She'd counted at least two score invisible soldiers. Backed by a score of armor-plated gunmen and flame-throwers – those could be easily dealt with; it was the invisible ones she was worried about. She could've taken ten, maybe fifteen on her own, but forty was far too much for just her.

            "Well, what do you see?" Came a voice from below.

            "Could you say that a little louder?" Cabrilyn said in a harsh whisper. "I'm not sure the entire state could hear you."

            Skinner stared up at the branches in contempt. Much to his dislike, it was his job to relay Cabrilyn's information back to Tom. "Sorry," he said, lowering his voice, but keeping his tone of annoyance. "So?"

            "We've got forty invisible soldiers on the lawn, with twenty gunmen and flame-throwers hiding in the bushes."

            At the mention of the flame-throwers, Skinner shuddered. He _still_ has nightmares about his previous encounter with one. He'd been bed-ridden for weeks – the slightest movement had been excruciatingly painful. Still, Sawyer had been grateful, and would've helped get him to safety sooner had it not been for a certain, unseen circumstance. It was funny, in an ironic sort of way, that the same "unseen circumstance" had come back to haunt them. "Anything else?" He asked at length.

            Cabrilyn sighed. "Are you still here? No. Nothing else, now _go_."

            Skinner made a face and meandered away. "Are you still here?" He said in his version Cabrilyn's frustrated tone. "Ooh, I can't _stand_ her!"

*   *   *

            _"Forty?"_

            Skinner nodded even though Tom couldn't see him. "Yes, forty. With twenty visible ones as backup."

            Tom massaged his temples. "What are we supposed to do about forty invisible soldiers?" He looked at Nemo. "I don't suppose you have that much flour on board, do you?"

            Nemo shook his head solemnly.

            "What about the visible soldiers?" Tom asked. At least he knew those could be handled.

            "Gunmen mostly," Skinner replied, "And a few flame-throwers. I'm not getting anywhere near them, I think being burnt to a crisp should be a one-time experience."

            "Hold on," Tom said. "The flame-throwers! Skinner, you're a genius."

            Skinner smirked. "I know…" he paused. "Um…"

            Mina shook her head. "You have no idea why you're a genius, do you?"

            "Of course I do! It's because… well, I… um, Tom, why am I a genius?"

            Tom let out an exasperated sigh. "We can set them on fire."

            "Oh, yeah," Skinner said. "That's real brilliant. We'll set them on fire, along with the rest of the White House."

            "Not if we get them away from the White House," Tom replied. A mischievous look was coming across his face.

            "Oh boy. What are you thinking Sawyer?" Skinner asked. He just knew he was part of whatever it was going on in Tom's head.

            Tom raised an eyebrow. "How are your acting skills?"

*   *   *

            "You there! Get your men together, we're to change position!"

            "Hold on. Who are you? State your name and rank."

            "I'm…um, well… Yendor. Yes, Yendor. Commander Yendor." _'Yendor?'_ Skinner thought to himself. _'Yendor? Where did _that _come from?'_

            "Yendor?" The invisible soldier replied skeptically. "I've never heard of you before."

            "Well, obviously you haven't been paying attention, and it's Commander Yendor to you," Skinner, aka 'Commander Yendor,' replied in an all-important voice. "Now get moving. I have orders that we are to change position."

            "May I enquire as to why, sir?"

            "No you may not!" Skinner said shortly. "Besides, who gave you permission to speak anyway? When I say, "get moving" I expect you to get moving! Now _go!"_

            After a moment the reply came, "Yes sir."

            Skinner sighed inwardly. He wasn't very happy with Tom right now. _'Pose as a soldier… lead them away… it'll be easy 'cause they think we're all dead…'_ he thought, remembering Tom's instructions. _'Ha, easy for him to say – he doesn't have to_ do _any of it!'_

"Sir, ready and awaiting your commands, sir."

            Skinner jumped – he hadn't known anyone was there. _'So, this is what it's like to spend time with me.' _"Um… right. Mr. Reed has issued a change of plans… he wants us to rendezvous in an alley, a few blocks from here."

            "An alley?" Skinner recognized the voice to be the soldier he'd spoken with before.

            "What's your name soldier?" He demanded.

            "Davis, sir."

            "Mr. Davis, you are way out of line. One more word from you, and I shall have you removed from this army… permanently." Skinner grinned at the shocked silence of the soldiers. He was really getting into his new role. "Right, let's move out."

* * *

A/N: Ok, in all honesty, I don't think Skinner would ever be in any sort of army. (My army-minded editor/friend Lily thinks so too!) Well, all is going according to plan… (Sinister laughter: bwa-ha-ha!) We have Cabrilyn and Skinner thoroughly annoying each other, America is under attack, and I'm making ready to bring someone back… but I won't tell you who or how! (More sinister laughter: bwa-ha-ha-ha!) Stay tuned for more updates!


	6. Wall of Fire

A/N: I said I could pump out chapters fast, but even _I _didn't know I could be this fast! Be warned – I set people on fire in this chapter. (I don't get _too_ descriptive, but just warning you.) It's funny, though, 'cause I have all this violence, and then, out of left field comes this corny romantic moment. (I'm a hopeless romantic – emphasis on the hopeless part.) Anyway, on to "Commander Yendor" and friends…

* * *

            Skinner found it rather difficult to lead an army of invisible men. Simply saying, "follow me" was sort of out of the question. It took him a while to get the hang of it, but that was fine. He was supposed to lead them in circles for a while so the others would have time to dispose of the visible gunmen, attain the flame-throwers and get to the rendezvous point.

            "Sir, didn't we already pass this way?"

            Skinner scowled and glanced over his shoulder. "You're pushing my patience, Mr. Davis. I know exactly where I'm going." They marched on. The distant sound of gunfire drifted on the breeze. _'Good,'_ Skinner thought. The rest of the League was doing their job. _'They'd better hurry, I don't know how much more of this Davis kid I can take!'_

            "Sir…"

            Skinner stopped in his tracks and reeled around. _"What?"_ Someone collided with him. "Ah! Oh… halt already!" The men stopped. "Davis, get up here."

            "I _am_ up here, sir." Davis said. He was the one who'd run into Skinner.

            "Good! Now I can box your ears you annoying little…"

            "But sir…" Davis protested.

            Skinner was totally annoyed with this young man. "For crying out loud! What is it?"

            "Look, sir, up there. What _is _that?"

            "What is what?" Skinner asked. He looked up the street. "Holy…!" It was Jekyll, well, more or less. He was somewhere between being Jekyll and Hyde. His formula had run out and he was staggering down the street in mid-transformation. Another figure rushed out into the middle of the street, probably Mina, and helped him into the alley. "Um… er… I don't know. Come on men, let's investigate."

            "All of us, sir?" It was Davis again.

            "Yes, all of us," Skinner replied shortly.

            "Now hold on," Davis said. "I don't think you are who you say you are. You come in out of nowhere and lead us in circles. Something's amiss here, and I think it's you." There was a chorus of "yeah" and "he's right" from the group.

            Skinner wasn't sure he could talk his way out of this one, but he knew he had to come up with some way to get them to the alley. "See here! Is this anyway to treat a commanding officer? I ought to kill you all right now!" He tried as a last-ditch effort to scare them back into taking his orders. It didn't work quite as well as he wanted it to. While he'd been talking, Davis had a plan of his own. He sought out a mud puddle and heaved a handful of mud in the direction of Skinner's voice. It hit him square in the face. Skinner gawked and wiped the mud from his eyes. Davis' plan worked – now Skinner could be seen.

            "Get him!" Davis hollered.

            Skinner bolted. _'Well, this is _one_ way to get them to the alley,'_ he thought as he ran down the middle of the street. His bare feet pounded on the asphalt, but not nearly as loud as his heart was pounding. He was scared for his life. Forty invisible soldiers were just as intimidating as those flame-throwers, if not worse. A bullet ricocheted off the street, followed by another and another. _'Great, now they're shooting at me! Sawyer owes me major for this one!'_ He headed into the alley at full run.

            "Hold on," Cabrilyn said. "It's Skinner."

            "I'm not alone!" Skinner shouted as he bolted past her. "Torch 'em!"

            The invisible army flooded around the corner, and was met by a wall of flame. Screams of pain pierced the night as the men scattered everywhere, searching for some relief from the pain. Tom, Nemo, and several of the crew drew their guns and took to ending the men's suffering. Skinner stayed toward the back of the alley, catching his breath while trying to tune out the cries of the men. He knew what it felt like to be set on fire. Someone came up beside him – it was Cabrilyn. "What have you got on your face, Commander Yendor?"

            Skinner glared at her. The dried mud on his face cracked and fell of in chunks. "Leave me alone. It was all I could think of."

            Cabrilyn couldn't help but laugh. "You could have picked something a little less… odd-sounding. Yendor… _that's_ normal!"

            "Humph," Skinner huffed. "It worked, didn't it?" He brushed past her and went to retrieve his coat from Tom. The melee had died down, but the carnage was sickening, and the smell was _awful_. Skinner walked carefully – the last thing he wanted to do was step on anyone. Cabrilyn watched him walk away. Despite the fact he was annoying, she felt a new sense of respect for Skinner. He'd risked his life to save a country that wasn't even his own. He was a hero, whether he'd admit to it or not.

            Jekyll came up beside her. He was pale and shirtless from his recent transformation and his brown hair was matted with sweat. He leaned against the fire-warmed brick wall. "Yendor?" he asked. He'd overheard Cabrilyn teasing Skinner about his choice in names.

            "It _was_ creative," Cabrilyn replied, shrugging. "It's 'Rodney' spelled backward."

            "What spelled backward?" Mina asked, walking up to join them. Her foot came across a rise in the pavement, and she stumbled. In a rather graceful manner, Jekyll caught her. There was a moment where neither of them spoke; they just looked at each other. Cabrilyn raised an eyebrow and quietly walked away. She doubted they even noticed she left.

            "Oh, um…" Mina stammered. "So sorry… That was in… incredibly clumsy of me." Still, she didn't try to get out of Jekyll's grasp. She just stood there. Jekyll didn't say anything – he couldn't think of anything to say even if he'd wanted to. Mina met his eyes – she knew that look. Her husband had looked at her the same way, many years ago. Love. Jekyll was in love with her, and she couldn't help feel that she was starting to love him back.

*   *   *

            Tom looked back at Mina and Jekyll. Somehow, he knew he'd lost out in trying to vie for Mina's heart. Skinner stood beside him, cleaning the last of the mud from his face. He followed Tom's gaze. "I'm happy for them," he said, throwing a glace at Tom. "Look, you'll get other chances. You're young, good-looking and, well, you're normal. Mina's not. She and the doctor got that in common – and that's something deep. They sort of need each other, ya' know?"

            "That was probably the deepest thing I've ever heard you say," Tom said. "Thanks."

            "Yeah, well, savor it because I don't know if I'll ever get that deep again," Skinner replied. He pulled on his coat and went out into the street, Tom followed. Charred bodies where piled everywhere. Skinner cringed – it was a gruesome sight to behold.

            "We've got a problem," Cabrilyn said, coming up to them. "I only count thirty-nine, and I've counted them twice. Someone's missing."

            Suddenly, Cabrilyn was seized from behind, and a knife was brought to her throat. "Would you be referring to me?" her captor asked.

            "Oh, God," Skinner uttered, backing away. "Davis."

            "Well, if it isn't Commander Yendor," Davis said mockingly. Cabrilyn struggled to get out of his grip. Davis pressed the knife into her skin, drawing blood. "One more move, and I'll kill you."

            "Go ahead, kill me." Cabrilyn said. "It'll be the last thing you ever do." 

            Davis chuckled. He was clever to have sent the others after "Commander Yendor" while he stayed behind. He was winning – or so he thought. Cabrilyn seized the opportunity and drew her dagger. In one swift movement, she plunged it into Davis' thigh. Davis yelled in pain, quickly forgetting his captive.

            Cabrilyn freed herself and turned on him, sword drawn. "Now," she said, menacing the invisible soldier with her blade. "We need information about your boss, and _you_ are going to give it to us."

* * *

A/N: *sings* "Love is in the air, everywhere I look around…" Ok, that was my musical moment for the day. I've always wanted Mina and Jekyll to end up together. I don't know why. I just like Jekyll, and I think he should get the girl. (So there. Ha, ha!) Now we get to have some Skinner mischief aboard the Nautilus in my next chapter. (Just in case you couldn't tell – Skinner's my favorite.) Oh, by the way – thank you for the reviews, I really appreciate all of the feedback!


	7. Ghosts of Old

A/N: Indeed, Skinner had a deep moment in my last chapter. I think being put in danger will do that to a person. Ooh… I smell a plot twist. He, he! Plot twists are some of my favorite things (just ask my editor/friend, Lily), so I decided, let's throw one in right about… here! Enjoy! (Also, Steffi, you rock too!)

* * *

            _"Where?"_ Skinner asked in disbelief.

            Tom shrugged. "Sweden – _northern_ Sweden." He leaned against the door to his quarters aboard the Nautilus. "And if Davis thinks he's gonna be smart and throw us off the scent – he's got another thing comin'." 

            Cabrilyn came strolling around the corner, followed shortly by her guards. She didn't seem to mind being under "tight surveillance," and if she did, she never complained. "Oh, Davis is telling the truth," she remarked. "That man is a coward, and a stupid one at that. He'd sell out his own mother if it'd save his skin. Reed's in Sweden, I'm positive of that."

            After being thoroughly threatened by Cabrilyn, Davis had told them Reed's headquarters were in Sweden, much to Skinner's dislike. "Great – more snow. What is it with bad guys and snow?" He thrust his hands into his pockets. "Speaking of bad guys – where is Mr. But Sir anyway?" He asked, referring to Davis by his new nickname for him.

            "Nemo's got him locked up somewhere," Tom said, yawning. "Oh, well, I'm off to bed. See ya' in the morning." He retired into his room. 

            "Good night Tom," Cabrilyn said and continued on to her own quarters. "Good night," she added, nodding to Skinner. 

            "G'night." Skinner yawned as well – it had been a _long_ day. The League was en route to Sweden, so they would have a few days to rest and recuperate. Skinner agreed with Tom – it was time for bed.

*   *   *

            Mina wasn't able to sleep. Her mind was swimming with thoughts of Henry. She was happy in a way she hadn't been since she lost Jonathan. She decided to take her new energy and put it to good use. She picked a beaker up from her desk and wiped it with a kerchief. She sighed softly. The scene in the alley kept replaying itself in her mind.

            "What, forgotten me already?"

            Mina nearly dropped the beaker. She knew that voice… that calm, silky, dark voice… She turned around slowly, and there in the corner stood Dorian Gray. "D… Dorian?" Mina choked the word out. He was really and truly there, but he seemed different somehow – he was clad in his normal gray pinstriped suit, but his face was fairer than she remembered it, and there was something else, but Mina couldn't place it. She just stared. "You're… you're supposed to be dead…"

            Dorian chuckled dryly. "I _am _dead." He raised an eyebrow. "Don't believe me?" He held out his hand and put it _through_ the wall. He did this several times, and each time he brought his hand back in front of him, he would inspect it as if he thought it had changed while it was on the other side. Suddenly, Mina realized what was so different about him – she couldn't place it before because the thought had never occurred to her, but now she knew – she could see through him.

            "You're a…"

            "Ghost?" Dorian concluded, sounding mildly amused, "Yes. An interesting experience, I must say."

            A million questions flooded Mina's mind, but all she could manage to say was, "But…"

            Dorian shrugged. "Immortal is immortal, alive or dead." He moved to lean on the dresser, having forgotten the fact he couldn't touch anything. He went clean through the dresser and the wall, and went stumbling out into the hallway. "Dorian!" Mina went to the door and peeked outside. Dorian was in the middle off the hall straitening his coat, and chiding himself for his rather clumsy display.

            "Mrs. Harker? Is everything all right?"

            Mina turned around. It was Nemo. "Um…" she wasn't sure how to respond – Nemo wouldn't take too kindly to seeing Dorian in the middle of his ship. "I'm… I'm fine captain. Thank you." She shot a glance at Dorian. He was standing there, waiting to be noticed.

            Nemo followed her gaze. "Mrs. Harker?" His tone was that of concern.

            Dorian strode up to Nemo and began waving his hand in front of the captain's face. When this failed to get Nemo's attention, Dorian resorted to moving his hand _through_ Nemo's face. Nothing. Dorian raised an eyebrow and turned to Mina. "Well, it appears he can't see me," he glanced over his shoulder at the captain. "Or hear me. Interesting." Mina just stared in disbelief.

            "Are you certain you're all right?" Nemo asked.

            Mina blinked a couple of times. "Yes, yes. I'm fine, just tired. Good night captain."

            Nemo gave a short bow. "Good night."

            With that, Mina quickly retreated into her room and shut the door, half-wishing she had just imagined Dorian. Not so, for a moment later, Dorian strode in though the wall. He wanted to sit down, but decided it was wise to test the chair first – he went through it. "Hmm, I guess I'm standing," he remarked.

            "Yes," Mina said dazedly. "I guess you are."

*   *   *

            Skinner put his ear to the door. What was she doing in there? He was outside of Cabrilyn's room, resurrecting his task of trying to catch her off guard. Every once in a while, he'd hear the clang of steel, and Cabrilyn saying something, but it was unclear what exactly. Skinner couldn't figure out for the life of him what was going on.

            "One… two… one…" Cabrilyn counted, swinging her swords – she was in the midst of her morning training routine. Her flaxen hair was tied back and she was dressed more for comfort and movement than style in a pair of trousers and a loose-fitting shirt. Somewhere in the midst of her exercise, she could've sworn she heard the door open. A quick glance over her shoulder confirmed her suspicions. She did a quick one-eighty, halting her blades in mid-air, or so it seemed.

            "Hello Skinner," she said nonchalantly. Skinner stayed stock-still, eyeing Cabrilyn's sword, parked a hairsbreadth away from his throat. Cabrilyn lowered her blade and chuckled, "The score: Cabrilyn, several; Skinner, none."

            "So, now we're keeping score are we?" Skinner asked irritably. "You could've killed me, you know."

            "Hmm," Cabrilyn said thoughtfully. "Would that be considered murder or charity?"

            "Now wait just a second!" Skinner burst. 

            Cabrilyn stared at him. "Look, if you want to sneak around, fine, but stay out of my room!" Before Skinner could utter one syllable, Cabrilyn ushered him out the door and sent him sprawling into the hall.

            Skinner picked himself up and brushed himself off, hating Cabrilyn all the while. Everyone else tolerated his clowning around, why couldn't she? Unbeknownst to him, Dorian stood nearby, delighting in the antics of Skinner and this newcomer. They acted so childish toward each other, and he found it rather funny.

            "At least I can find some amusement on this miserable ship," he commented. Skinner couldn't see or hear him either. In fact, Mina had proven to be the only one who could. The reason why was still a mystery to him. Dorian strode away, passing through Skinner and going on down the hall to see what other forms of entertainment he could find.

* * *

A/N: Ooh! The ghost of Dorian Gray has come to haunt the Nautilus! I _was_ planning to have a bit more Skinner in this chapter – then the Dorian thing came to me. (That's just my crazy mind at work.) Speaking of my crazy mind at work, this chapter reminds me of a song… *sings Clay Aiken* _"If I were invisible, then I could just watch you in your room…"_ Ah, that's the most romantic stalker song ever! :-P


	8. A New Perspective

A/N: SPRING BREAK IS _HERE!_ *dances around in circles* I have some deep things happen in this chapter. I think I shall just let them speak for themselves…

* * *

            "Skinner! If you go _anywhere_ near my backside again, I'll kill you!"

            Skinner dashed down the hall, laughing jubilantly. He'd finally succeeded in sneaking up on Cabrilyn. He'd managed to find a moment when her back was turned and he seized the opportunity… well, he'd seized _more_ than just the opportunity. The only disadvantage to his victory was Cabrilyn was hot on his tail, and she was absolutely livid. Skinner made a sharp turn into the library, nearly running over Mina in the process. "Whoa! 'Scuse me!" He cried as he knocked various papers from her hands and dashed out the opposite door.

            Mina knelt down to retrieve her things, shaking her head. Dorian chuckled – he was standing in the corner, being bored out of his mind and longing to be able to pick up a book. Cabrilyn came sprinting around the corner and nearly tripped over Mina. "Ah!" She cried, halting in her tracks. She knelt down to help Mina retrieve her things. "I take this to mean Skinner went through here," she remarked, handing Mina her papers.

            "Indeed," Mina said dryly. "He went out the other door."

            "Yeah, well, he won't get far." Cabrilyn stood. "Oh, Mina, don't be rude, introduce me to your friend." She nodded towards Dorian in the corner.

            "You… you can _see_ him?" Mina asked in amazement.

            Dorian was just as stunned. "You can see me?"

            "Of course I can," she gave Dorian a looking over. "Why shouldn't I be able to?" 

            "Cabrilyn, this is Dorian," Mina said.

            "Dorian? The spy, Dorian?" Cabrilyn blurted. Mina sighed. Since Dorian's re-appearance, neither of them mentioned the fact Dorian had been a spy or that Mina had been responsible for Dorian's death. There was a silent agreement between the two of them that those things were best left forgotten. Cabrilyn wasn't finished with her amazement, "Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

            "Yes," Dorian said shortly. "And, believe me, I'm doing that to the best of my abilities." He put his hands in his pockets – at least that was something he could still do.

            "Oh, you're a ghost. _Now_ I get it." Cabrilyn sounded as though conversing with a ghost was normal.

            Dorian chuckled in an 'I'm-not-really-amused-by-what-you-just-said' kind of way. "I'm not the first ghost you've spoken to, am I?"

            "Oh, goodness no! I've spoken with tons of ghosts. You know, there's another one on this ship in addition to yourself. He's always following Nemo around, goes by the name of Ishmael." She shrugged, not noticing the look on Dorian's face – Ishmael would _definitely_ not be happy to see him. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have an invisible man to catch."

*   *   *

            Skinner was feeling elated having snuck upon Cabrilyn _and_ given her the slip. It was time for a much-deserved reward. "To the kitchen!" He declared. Someone grabbed his shoulder and spun him around – it was Cabrilyn. "Uh-oh. I've been caught."

            "Indeed you have. I bet you think you're pretty funny, don't you?" Cabrilyn asked sounding not at all amused. "I'm tired of your little games, Skinner…"

            "Cabrilyn…"

            Cabrilyn looked over her shoulder. Tom was standing there, hands in his pockets, "Nemo wants your help with somethin'," he said. Cabrilyn issued a sigh and released Skinner, who was silently thanking Tom for intervening.

            "How do you put up with him?" Cabrilyn asked falling in-step beside Tom. Skinner had since fled the scene.

            Tom shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it's because I know I wouldn't be alive if it weren't for him."

            "Beg pardon?" Cabrilyn asked. She had never heard _this_ story before.

            "He saved me from one of those flame-throwers – got himself set on fire." Tom shook his head. "I owe him a lot. First, he risks his life to save me, and then he risks his life to save my country. Skinner's a good guy, a little frustrating sometimes, but a good guy." They walked on in silence for a while. Cabrilyn let the whole of what Tom had just said sink in. Skinner _was_ a hero. Cabrilyn would've never thought him to be the type to risk his life to save a friend.

            At length, she said, "Where are we going?"

            "Nowhere," Tom said. "Just returning the favor." He winked at her and walked away. Cabrilyn fully doubted that saving Skinner from her wrath constituted as "returning the favor," but she let it go. Besides, she felt that her little conversation with Tom had done her some good. It put Rodney Skinner in a whole new perspective.

*   *   *

            "Haven't you tortured me enough?"

            "Mr. Davis, if you want that leg of yours to get any better, I suggest you stay still," Jekyll said in the most reasonable tone he could muster. Davis had not been a willing patient; he was convinced that every time Jekyll tried to do anything for the knife wound in his leg, it was just an excuse to torture him.

            Skinner strode in, taking a bite out of the apple he'd pilfered from the kitchen. He'd donned his coat, and the white cream so he could munch on his apple and not make anyone who was watching him nauseous. He eyed the prisoner with contempt. Davis had been put in a spare pair of trousers and a shirt, courtesy of Nemo's crew, but refused to put anything on his face. Nonetheless, Skinner was certain Davis was glaring back at him. Skinner quickly put on a smile, "Hello, how are you holding up?"

            "It's none of your business!" Davis spat.

            "I wasn't talking to you," Skinner replied. "Not easy to work with, is he doctor?" He sauntered over to a nearby shelf and picked up one of Jekyll's medical books. He casually took another bite out of his apple as he inspected it.

            Jekyll sighed. "Not easy at all. Would you stop moving?"

            Davis squirmed even more, just to spite the doctor. Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Here," he said, approaching Jekyll's impossible patient. "Allow me." He landed Davis a heavy blow on the back of the head with the book, knocking him senseless.

            "Well," Jekyll commented. "I suppose that's one way to get him to stay still."

            "My God," Skinner sighed. "You don't know how many times I wanted to do that." He replaced the book on its shelf. "He's an annoying little whelp. If we didn't need him, I'd have hit him with more than just that book."

            Jekyll chuckled. "I would've helped."

            A few moments later, Cabrilyn came in, at which point Skinner dove behind a table. "Oh, get up," Cabrilyn sighed. "I'm not mad at you anymore. Anyway, it's time for dinner."

            "I'll be there as soon as I'm finished," Jekyll said. "You two go on."

            Skinner reluctantly followed Cabrilyn into the hall. In spite of her previous statement, he was wary – after all, she was still armed.

            "So, you never told me about saving Tom," Cabrilyn said, trying to strike up some conversation.

            "Hm," Skinner shrugged, "Never thought it was important."

            "You never thought it was important?" She replied incredulously. "You saved his life!"

            Skinner didn't respond to this. It was not something he enjoyed, being hailed as a hero. He just put his hands in his pockets and walked silently on. Cabrilyn wasn't sure what to make of his silence, "Skinner? You _did_ save…"

            "Look," Skinner said, halting in his tracks. "I'm _not_ a hero, all right?" Cabrilyn didn't say anything. She wasn't expecting her attempt at conversation to set him off. "Want to know _why _I joined the League? I wasn't in it to "do good" like you are. I was in it for _me_. I joined because if I helped out, I would get an antidote. I would be _visible_ again… I… I didn't even think before I rushed in to save Sawyer… and if I would've had the time to think about it properly, I _know _I wouldn't have gone in…"

            Cabrilyn stared at him. "I think you would have."

            "Shows what you know." Skinner said shortly.

            "You underestimate yourself, Skinner," Cabrilyn replied. "Somewhere in there, behind the foolishness, you're a hero."

            Skinner's only response was an aggravated sigh as he continued on down the hall and out of sight.

*   *   *

"Catherine, honey, it's for the best…"

            "But mama…"

            "Catherine, don't argue with me. Your father and I both know what's good for you… honey, you were so close… _so_close…" her mother stroked her soft blond hair. "You'll be all right… we promise…"

            "Hello Catherine," the voice was seedy and nasal. It grated at her very soul. "Shall we begin…?"

            There was pain… burning… white hot. "Make it stop!" She screamed inwardly. "Owen! Make it stop!" The pain cut through her like a hot knife. It was blinding… deafening… then… there was nothing. No pain, no light, no sound, no feeling… nothing… just darkness…

*   *   *

            Cabrilyn awoke in a cold sweat. It took her a moment to remember where she was and how she got there. She was in her room aboard the Nautilus, and it was just past midnight. She sighed. Her dreams were growing steadily worse. The door creaked open. "Are you all right?" Cabrilyn's visitor was not at all who she would've expected – she thought it would've been one of her guards, maybe even Mina since her room was just down the hall. It was Skinner, of all people.

            "What are you doing here?" she asked, she was more curious than annoyed. Since his little outburst the other day, Cabrilyn was more tolerant towards the gentleman thief.

            "I was on my way to the kitchen," he stated abruptly. "I heard you talking. Bad dream?"

            "Yes," Cabrilyn sighed. "You may as well come in."

            Skinner entered and sought out a plush chair on the opposite side of the room. He made himself quite at home. "So… um… who's Owen?" he asked at length.

            "Owen…? Oh God, was all that out loud?"

            "Only the 'make it stop' part. Didn't sound too pleasant," Skinner remarked. "I know how it is. I find myself yelling 'Sawyer run for it' in my sleep quite a bit."

            Cabrilyn raised an eyebrow. "Really? Hmm… I've been having dreams, well, nightmares actually, about Dr. Owen, and the operation. It's so strange. I haven't dreamt about any of that in years." She paused. "I haven't heard my name in so long…"

            "Your name? Isn't Cabrilyn…?"

            "Yes… No… Well, sort of. My name _was _Catherine… Catherine Brittany Lynné… but that person is dead now. Her parents and her friends are long gone. The life she knew is no more. Just ripped from her hands at the age of eighteen by a madman. Cabrilyn… that's who I am now… wandering the world… doing good…" she gave a bemused chuckle. "Doing good, huh. It's really more a game of revenge… God, if I _ever_ find Owen, he won't have time to beg for mercy…"

            Skinner didn't speak, even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't think of anything to say in response to what he was being told. Right now, Cabrilyn just needed someone to listen. So he did. He just listened as Cabrilyn poured her heart and soul out well into the early hours of the morning.

            "… I'm sorry," Cabrilyn said after a while. "You didn't have to stick around and listen to all that."

            "Hey," Skinner replied. "It was nothing, really. After all, you listened to my rantings yesterday." He tried to mask a yawn. "Oh, 'scuse me."

            "You can go on back to bed," Cabrilyn told him. "I'm done rambling now."

            Skinner yawned and made his way to the door.

            "Oh, Skinner?"

            He paused. "What?"

            "Thank you."

* * *

A/N: Wow. Deep moment… and now it's over. I think that's about as deep as I can get. Anyway – as I said before, spring beak is here! *dances around in more circles and gets extremely dizzy* Alas, I checked my calendar and I have rehearsal _every single night!_ (Except Tuesday. Go figure.) Why every single night? Because the show opens on Friday (the 19th) and it runs for the next three weekends. The good news is: I don't have _rehearsal_ in between shows. The bad news is: I still have to go to _school_ in between shows. (Dash it all!) I will see what time I can muster up to work on this, because, wouldn't you know it, my mother actually wants me to do stuff during my break. (How rude!)__


	9. The Evil Twin

A/N: My goodness! I thought I was supposed to have _time_ to work on this during break! I guess not. What little time I could scrape together, I spent building my homepage.

Anyway, before we get into the story, there's something I want to say in response to a couple of reviews I got. I really do appreciate the feedback that I get from my readers, but what I will _not_ tolerate is someone insulting my work _and_ me. I realize I can't please everybody, and that's fine, but if you don't like something, _tell me how to make it better._ Don't just ramble on and on about how much you hate something. That won't help improve the story in any way. I _love_ suggestions, I _thrive _on suggestions, so give me suggestions on how you think the story can be improved and I will try my best to make this story likeable for you. Thank you. ~Krisian

* * *

            Dorian had found his way to the Nautilus' dining room. Breakfast had been over for a long while and the table had been cleared of all food. Dorian didn't care – after all, he _was_ a ghost. He didn't need to eat. Instead, he had taken to trying to pick up a small vase that sat on the table. His efforts only succeeded in making him frustrated. "My God, I am _useless!"_ He fumed. "What good it being a ghost if you can't _do_ anything?" He tried again to pick up the vase. Nothing. He sighed and muttered, "Couldn't I have just _stayed_ dead? Would've been more convenient."

            "Havin' those thoughts, are we?"

            Dorian reeled around. "Oh…"

            Ishmael raised an eyebrow and leaned against the wall. "Well, well. Mr. Gray. Didn't think I'd be seein' you again." He sauntered over to the table and lifted the vase. He flung it at Dorian, who, out of habit, ducked – not very successfully either. Had he been solid, the vase would've hit him cleanly on the head. Instead, it shattered on the wall behind him. The former first-mate sniggered. "It's not much fun when you're startin' out, is it? Can't do a damn thing." He took a seat at the table. "I've had a bit more time to practice than you," he said spitefully.

            "Indeed…" Dorian said cautiously – he wasn't sure what would come of this visit.

            "Oh, don't worry yourself," Ishmael chuckled. "My tryin' to kill you wouldn't do much good, would it?" He got up and went to the door. Before he went, he glanced over his shoulder at Dorian. "Just stay away from me, and I won't try."

            Suddenly, something exploded and the entire ship lurched violently. Dorian was sent sprawling, and soon found himself half in the dining room, half in the hallway – a rather disturbing experience, ghost or not. He hauled himself up, just to be knocked flat again by another explosion. Crewmembers were sprinting up and down the hall, passing through Dorian, who was desperately wishing he could at least lean on the wall for support. Tom, Skinner, and Cabrilyn came running down the hall, followed shortly by Mina and Jekyll. Mina paused in front of Dorian.

            "Mina!" Jekyll called, "Come on!"

            Mina nodded, and motioned for Dorian to follow. He did, but it took him a while to get off the floor. The League was soon assembled at the Nautilus' helm. "What the hell is going on?" Tom asked, passing through Dorian to get a better view out the window.

            Nemo was trying desperately to steady his Lady. "We're being fired at… from under water."

            "Mina…" Mina turned around. Dorian was at the far side of the room, staring out another window. "You'd better look at this…" She was at his side in an instant.

            "Oh, God…" She breathed. "Captain…?" Breaking the smooth surface of the ocean, in all its splendor, was an _exact _copy of the Nautilus. The entire League was dumbfounded. There was a moment where no one knew what to do; they just stood there in shock of the ship before them.

            Dorian sighed. "Someone _do something!"_ He shouted. Much to his amazement, everyone jumped into action. Nemo began barking orders, and soon, the real Nautilus and its evil twin were exchanging fire. The ship rocked violently, throwing people and furniture everywhere. Skinner somehow ended up pinned between the wall and a table, a rather heavy table. "Get this bloody thing off me!" The ship rocked again, and Tom ended up on the floor, while Cabrilyn fell against Skinner's table. "Ow!" Skinner yelled. It was mass chaos.

            "Return fire!" Nemo ordered.

            "Can we submerge Captain?" Jekyll asked, steadying himself against the wall. There was another explosion and the Nautilus lurched again.

            "Not anymore!" Nemo replied.

            "There's gotta be something we can do!" Tom said as he hauled himself upward.

            "Indeed," Nemo said. "Pray."

            The evil Nautilus continued its merciless assault. Dorian stayed near the middle of the room – he didn't want to get thrown through the wall and out into the ocean. Skinner was nearby, still pinned behind the table. The gentleman thief was struggling wildly, but with the ship rocking and lurching, no one could come to his aid. The Nautilus rocked again. Dorian stumbled and, out of habit, moved to steady himself on Skinner's table. Miraculously, it worked. Dorian could _touch_ the table. He would've been elated if not for the circumstances. He decided to try out his newfound ability and gave the table a powerful shove; it slid away from its captive. Skinner was slightly bewildered, to him, it seemed the table had moved on its own.

            Nemo was struggling with the controls in attempt to keep his ship above water. The faux Nautilus was now in full view out the row of windows before him. Nemo could just make out what he presumed to be cannon fire, and its destination. _"Get down!"_ He cried as the windows shattered, sending shards of the thick glass in every direction. When the flying debris had settled, Nemo got up and took a quick head-count to make sure everyone was all right. Everyone was _not_ all right. Cabrilyn was lying on the floor, impaled by a large shard of glass. "Doctor," he said, turning Jekyll's attention to the wounded girl.

            "Good Lord!" Jekyll knelt beside her. She was alive, but barely. The glass had wedged itself between her ribs, puncturing her lung. Her breathing was shallow and ragged.

            Mina yanked a small chunk of glass from her upper arm and looked from Jekyll and Cabrilyn to Dorian, who was standing beside her. She didn't say anything to him, but the look on her face conveyed her thoughts clearly: _Can't you do something?_ Just then, Dorian got an idea. He _could_ do something… he could help. He knew full well that the old Dorian Gray wouldn't have care what happened, but, for some reason, he cared now. Perhaps it was just because it was a chance for redemption… he wasn't actually sure himself. All he knew was, he could help.

*   *   *

            The constant rocking and lurching was not helping Jekyll tend to his patient. There was no way he could do anything helpful for her until he got her to the infirmary. Cabrilyn's breathing was becoming more and more labored. She was fading fast. "Tom," he called to the young American. "Can you get to the infirmary and grab my supplies?" Tom nodded and dashed off, trying not to fall as the ship rocked again.

            Mina was busy trying to find Dorian – he'd just disappeared. All of a sudden, an ear-shattering explosion overpowered the din of the battle. The Nautilus shook, yet, it hadn't been hit by anything. The remaining League members stared out the remnants of the windows in amazement as the fake Nautilus erupted in a ball of orange flame and jet-black smoke. The flaming mess that once was an exact copy of the Nautilus began sinking slowly to the ocean floor.

            Skinner raised his eyebrows. "What did you do, Captain?"

            "I'm fairly certain _we_ didn't cause that explosion," Nemo replied.

            "Of course you didn't. _I_ did."

            The group, save Mina, who knew full well who it was, did an abrupt about-face, and stared in amazement at the speaker. "Dorian?" Skinner stuttered. Dorian raised his eyebrows, bemused by the fact that now, for some reason everyone could see him.

            "You!" Nemo said, drawing his sword. "How dare you set foot on my ship again!" He lunged at Dorian, slashing wildly. His blade simply passed through the immortal, leaving him unharmed.

            "You really should stop that," Dorian replied nonchalantly. "It's very foolish trying to kill someone that's already dead." Nemo halted his attack and just stared at Dorian in bewilderment.

            Tom came sprinting in, medical supplies in hand. He quickly gave them to Jekyll, only after that did he notice Dorian. "Dorian? What the…? Aren't you…?" He looked at Mina, wanting her to confirm that she had indeed killed Dorian.

            Dorian sighed. "It's a long story."

            "We'll have time for stories later," Jekyll said, not sounding the least bit pleased to see Dorian. "Right now, we have to get Cabrilyn to the infirmary."

* * *

A/N: You know, I think I had more time for this when I was _in_ school. (Go figure.) So, keep in mind what I said at the beginning of the chapter. Suggestions are my friends. If you like this fic thus far, I have my original works and previews of my upcoming fics on my homepage. (The link to which can be found on my bio page) And there was more rejoicing. Yay. Also, I just remembered this, and it's kinda silly, but I feel it needs saying anyway. My editor/friend Lily was reading my 8th chapter on my computer and decided to review it, while _I _was logged in. So I have a review from _her_ that says it's from _me!_ Silly Lily.


	10. Making Repairs

A/N: Hey, I've hit double digits with my chapters! This calls for some triumphant background music… *trumpets begin playing the guitar solo for "We Will Rock You"* Hehehe, a little _Knight's Tale_ humor there. Thanks for the suggestions! Some I'll use, some I won't. Don't feel bad if I don't use your suggestion – it may pop up somewhere else down the road! Also, I kinda stole a line from _Pirates of the Caribbean,_ but it worked really, _really_ well with what was going on…

**Steffi-333 ~** Oh, what some people will do just to receive oh-so sexy glares from Dorian. :-P

**WhIPpeD CrEaM 0 ~** You like it when people get hurt, do you? You sound like one of my OCs, goes by the name of Desonya, likes to maim people. :-P _Cabby?_ *giggle* Cabrilyn has a nickname now!

**schizomaniax ~ **_skinner o skinner! why the bloody hell do you have to be always invisible?!_ *uproarious laughter* Ok, I found that incredibly amusing!

**elven-emma ~ **Because it would be hard to keep Dorian in the boat if he kept going through the floor!

* * *

            _"I've done what I could…" _the voice was distant, soft, as if she were hearing it from under water. _"She's lost a lot of blood…" _A group of shadowy figures came into her view. They peered down at her, and if theyspoke, she didn't hear. Fatigue and fever were weighing down on her like a ton of bricks. She shut her eyes and slipped into blissful unconsciousness…

            Cabrilyn was lying in one of the beds in the Nautilus' infirmary. What little color there had been in her face had gone, leaving her eerily white. Her blond hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat and she was running a fever. Jekyll was across the room, washing his hands. He'd removed the shard of glass and done what else he could for her, now it was a waiting game. The real test for her would be surviving through the night. If she did, then maybe, just maybe she'd pull through. Tom, Skinner, and Mina were standing around her, none of them sure what to say, and all guiltily wondering how they would find Reed and his invisible army if she died.

            The wicked shard of glass lay on the edge of the skink where Jekyll was washing his hands. One end was still covered in Cabrilyn's brilliant, red blood. The doctor couldn't help but stare at it, and instead of seeing his own reflection in the glass, Hyde met his gaze. _"She won't make it, Henry… You know as well as I do…" _Hyde said in his deep growl. "Be quiet," Jekyll said shortly. He did not want to have to deal with fighting off his alter ego _and_ the prospect of loosing another League member. He'd done all he could, the rest, was up to Cabrilyn. Jekyll dried his hands and issued a sigh. "Leave her be," he said. "We just have to wait and see what happens. In the meantime, we'd better see what we could do to help repair the ship."

            "Right," Tom said. "Just standin' here isn't helping anybody." He thrust his hands into his pockets and threw a glance at Cabrilyn before he left. Mina sighed and followed him. Skinner lingered.

            Jekyll unrolled his sleeves and looked curiously at the gentleman thief. "Coming?"

            "Hm? Oh, um, yeah. Be there in a minute," he replied distractedly. Jekyll simply nodded and left – he did not feel he needed to know what was running through Skinner's mind right now. In reality, _Skinner _wasn't even surewhat was running through his mind right now. His thoughts kept drifting back to that instant he saw Cabrilyn just lying there on the floor, near death, covered in her own blood… he'd been terrified. In fact, he was _still_ terrified – terrified that she might not wake up from this incident, as she had from Dr. Owen's operation.

            _'She can't die,'_ he thought. _'We need her…'_ And he chided himself thoroughly for such a thought. She was a _person_, not some secret weapon. It was no better than worrying about Jekyll because they needed Hyde, or worrying about Nemo because they needed his ship. Skinner could understand those kinds of thoughts coming from the others, not that he condoned it, but he understood – none of the others really _knew_ Cabrilyn. Skinner did. It was just by chance that he was passing by her room that night and heard her yelling in her sleep, and he only meant to see if she was okay, he didn't think she'd invite him in. He learned a lot more about Cabrilyn than he'd bargained for, but then, she probably learned a lot more about _him _than she'd bargained for too…

*   *   *

            "Where _is _Skinner?"

            "Calm down Tom," Jekyll replied, grabbing a seat at the grand table where the rest of the League was assembled. "He'll show up in a minute. He had… something to do."

            Tom raised an eyebrow and was about to ask what on _earth_ would Skinner have to do, when Dorian came sauntering in. "Dorian," Tom said, detest creeping into his voice. "What are you doing here?"

            Dorian pulled out a chair and took a seat, reveling in being able to sit down again. "I'm part of the League, aren't I?" He replied. 

            "Not as I see it," Tom said shortly.

            "Well, as _I_ see it, I could've just sat back and waited for you all to join me in the afterlife courtesy of Mr. Reed's Nautilus."

            Tom opened his mouth to make some sort of comeback, but nothing came to mind. Instead, it was Jekyll who spoke, not bothering to hide his dislike for Mina's former lover, "Do you think that puts you in the right?" He asked. "One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness, or in your case, _several_ lifetimes of wickedness."

            "Henry…" Mina said softly.

            Jekyll stared at her. "You can't possibly tell me you're willing to give him another chance! You of all people!" Mina said nothing and her silence was enough reassurance for the doctor. "I don't believe this! Mina, he's a _traitor!"_

            _"Was_ a traitor, Henry," Mina said sharply. "Dorian isn't like that anymore…"

            "And Dorian _really_ appreciates the way you talk about him like he's not here," Dorian said sardonically. "Acknowledge my presence, if you please."

            "Aw, what makes you think we'd want to do a thing like that?"

            Dorian turned around in his chair and let out a slightly annoyed sigh. "Hello Skinner."

            "Hello Dorian," Skinner replied, not bothering to hide his contempt either. He found an empty chair opposite the doctor and sat down. "Nice to see you back among the living," he stated, sarcasm dripping from his words.

            "I _am_ curious about that," Nemo said, trying very hard not to show his dislike for the immortal as the others so blatantly did. "How did you manage to come back?"

            Dorian shrugged. _"I_ had nothing to do with my coming back – that I'm certain of. I don't know how or why I'm here. Honest."

            "Yeah, I'm _so_ sure that's it," Skinner muttered.

            "I heard that," Dorian said, shooting a glance down the table at Skinner.

            "Would you two _stop it?"_ Tom said. "Look, we have to stop Reed regardless of Dorian being here, or Cabrilyn being in the infirmary, so _deal with it."_

            Dorian's eyebrows shot up. "Yes sir," he replied scathingly. Tom silenced him with a glance. He didn't like Dorian being back amongst them any more than the others did, but he had resigned to the fact that nothing short of an exorcist would get Dorian to leave. They would just have to deal with it.

            Skinner couldn't help it – Tom was staring daggers at Dorian and he just _had_ to make a joke. "Ooh, Dorian, if looks could kill…"

            "Don't even attempt to finish that sentence, Skinner," Dorian said coldly. 

            Tom sighed. "This is getting us _nowhere!_ Can we at least _try_ and talk about something constructive? Like, Dorian, what did you do to that other ship?"

            "I blew it up."

            "No, really? I mean, _how_ did you blow it up? And I don't wanna hear any of your high-and-mighty attitude."

            Dorian shot Tom a look of extreme dislike. He never enjoyed being bossed around, and since when did this cocky young American inherit the right to give orders? "I went through the wall, into the ocean and onto the other ship," he said callously. "I knew what it would take to blow up the ship because, after all, I was the one responsible for capturing _this_ vessel's secrets on our last little trip. It wasn't all that different once I got inside."

            "Indeed," Nemo muttered.

            "Captain…" Tom said warningly. He then turned to the business at hand. "So, we're dead in the water right now. We need to make repairs as fast as we can. Reed obviously knows we're on our way, and hopefully he hasn't got an entire navy waiting for us, but if he does," he eyed Dorian, who purposely looked away. Tom rolled his eyes – he would have to have a talk with Dorian later – and continued, "Nemo will give everyone jobs to do to help with repairs, and I mean everyone. That means you, too, Skinner. Captain?"

            Nemo nodded. "Right…"

*   *   *

            It was dark, and she didn't know where she was or what had happened. She only felt the pain, and the cold. The sound of the explosion rang in her ears for what seemed like a lifetime, and the flying glass haunted her dreams. She just lay there, cold and hurting for what felt like forever. Then… warmth… she felt warmth… only a little bit, on her hand. Somewhere in her subconscious, she realized, someone was holding her hand. She clung to that warmth with all her will. It beckoned her to life…

            Cabrilyn's eyelids slowly fluttered open. It was nighttime, and the infirmary was dark. She could just make out someone standing beside her bed. She tried to shift her position. White-hot pain gripped her chest, and stole her breath. She winced, fighting the darkness closing in around her vision again and settled back into her bed. Moving would not be an option. She decided to chance talking instead. "Who's there?" She asked, managing to get her voice just above a whisper. That, too, was painful.

            "Cabrilyn?"

            _"Skinner?"_ She couldn't believe it. Not only was Skinner watching over her, he'd been holding her hand too. She didn't expect _anyone _to be this concerned about her, let alone Skinner of all people.

            "Yes, it's me," Skinner said – he sounded somewhat embarrassed.

            Cabrilyn decided to change the subject. "How long have… I… I been…?" She couldn't bring herself to finish. Talking was just too painful.

            Skinner grasped what she was trying to ask. "Couple of days," he replied. "We weren't sure you'd come out of it."

            _'Yes, well, I had a little help…'_ Cabrilyn thought. She didn't know why Skinner had been holding her hand, but she was glad he did. It had brought her back, and for that, she would be eternally grateful.

*   *   *

            The repairs were underway. Both the Nautilus and Cabrilyn were getting to be much better. Cabrilyn was well enough to be sitting up in bed and she was bored out of her mind. She had managed to get her hands on some paper and a chunk of charcoal, and was resurrecting her artistic talents, though, there wasn't much to sketch in the infirmary. At least it gave her something to do. She hated being bedridden, she felt so useless, but Jekyll had adamantly refused to let her leave. He said she needed more time to heal.

            "Hmm, you're quite the little artist."

            Cabrilyn started slightly, and, ignoring the pain in her chest, reprimanded her visitor, "Dorian, don't _do_ that! Haven't you ever heard of knocking?"

            Dorian passed the remainder of the way through the wall. "So sorry," he said, not sounding sorry in the least. "You never told me you drew."

            "You never asked," Cabrilyn replied, turning her attention back to her drawing.

            Skinner came strolling in, a plate of food in hand. "Lunch is served…" He paused when he noticed Dorian standing there. "Dorian," he said shortly.

            "Skinner," Dorian responded, and left. That was about the standard conversation between those two. Skinner hated Dorian with a passion. After all, it was Dorian who brought Skinner's invisible skin sample to M in the first place. He was convinced that if it hadn't been for Dorian, none of this would be happening.

            Cabrilyn raised an eyebrow and set down her drawing utensils. "Ah, such tangled webs we weave."

            "What's that supposed to mean?" Skinner asked. He handed her the plate. He'd volunteered for the job of looking after Cabrilyn when the doctor was unavailable – the others just assumed he took the job because it required minimum labor on his part. Cabrilyn didn't want to admit it, but she was beginning to enjoy the gentleman thief's company. He provided comic relief to her otherwise boring day.

            "What I mean is, Dorian's part of the reason we're chasing Reed around, yet he's also the reason we're all not rotting at the bottom of the ocean right now," she shrugged.

            "Humph," Skinner sat himself at the foot of her bed. "Right now, I'd rather _be_ at the bottom of the ocean."

            "Oh, stop your grousing," Cabrilyn said, poking idly at her lunch with her fork. "I know he doesn't have any right to be here, but he is."

            Skinner didn't enjoy discussing Dorian, so he decided it was time for a subject change, "Are you going to eat that, or did I bring that _incredibly heavy_ plate all the way down here for nothing?"

            "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry Skinner," Cabrilyn said in mock pity, "I didn't mean to have you do something so _straining _for no reason…" Suddenly, Jekyll came bursting into the room, followed by Tom and his Winchester rifle. Both had looks of urgency and concern on their faces. Cabrilyn had started at their arrival. "Does no one on this ship _knock?"_ The she took note of the looks on their faces. Something wasn't right. "What is it?"

            "Davis," Tom said. "He's loose."

* * *

A/N: *dramatic music* _Dun-dun-dunnn! _Ok, now, onward to Sweden! _Why_ I picked Sweden is beyond me – maybe because there's a girl in my Youth Group who's from Sweden. I can ask her questions and be all accurate and stuff! Ooh! I is a genie-us! (Hehehe, me speak good, me is in speech!)


	11. Davis and the Doctor

A/N: Hooray for **1001freefonts.com**! They have a font called _Morse Kode_, which helped me with the telegraph aspect of this chapter. (They also have a font called _Skinner,_ which I just _had_ to download just because it was called _Skinner!) _Hmm… I think they should thank me for the free advertising. :-P

**Zanna Avons ~ **You never know… *conspirator-type laughter*

**Melanie ~ **Hey! You speak more gooder than me!

**Crystal ~ **You hear bells? *puts hand to ear, listens* I hear… my cousin singing. _Be quiet Alicia!_

**Steffi ~** I'm sorry I made you sob. :-P No more cliffhangers, I promise… *crosses fingers behind back*

* * *

            _"Loose?"_ Cabrilyn practically dropped her plate. "We've got to find him!"

            "No," Jekyll said sensibly, "_We_ are going to find him, and _you_ are going to stay here."

            "Stay here?" Cabrilyn protested. "Are you mad? I am _not_ going to just sit here…"

            "Yes you are," the doctor retorted. "You're not well enough to be running around."

            Cabrilyn ignored his remark – she was bound and determined to hunt Davis down. She moved to get out of bed. Skinner stood up, as if to block her path. "Ah-ah-ah," he said, shaking a scolding finger at her. "You heard the doctor." Cabrilyn ignored him too and stood up. It was a rather painful experience, but she told herself she couldn't give in to pain with an invisible enemy running around. "Cabrilyn," Skinner said sharply, _"Sit!"_ Cabrilyn was taken aback to have received such an order from Skinner. Tom and Jekyll were rather surprised, too. They just stared at Skinner for a moment before anybody could figure out what to say.

            When someone finally spoke, it was Tom. "Cabrilyn, look, we figure if Davis is after anybody on this ship, it would be you. He didn't take too kindly to you stabbing and threatening him. You've got to stay here."

            Cabrilyn wasn't entirely convinced. "Oh? And what makes you so sure I'll be safe in here?"

            Tom cocked his rifle. "Cause I'll be in here waiting for him."

*   *   *

            Davis had always prided himself on being a clever man. The mass chaos that ensued during and after the Nautilus was attacked provided the perfect opportunity for him to slip away. He doubted anyone would notice his absence, what with the ship _barely _floating on its own accord. The crew had their duties, and Davis had his…

            The invisible prisoner had sought to send a message to Reed. It was just on a whim that Nemo had come to investigate. The captain merely wanted to see if there was anything new coming in, but instead, he found the telegraph working itself. At first, he thought it was Skinner sending some 'hello my freaky darlings' message or other, but then, he caught the end of the message:

| **- . .** | **. -** | **. . . - **| **. . **| **. . . **|

DAVIS 

            Nemo had charged in, sword drawn, but, by some miraculous stroke of luck, Davis got away. Now, he was somewhere on board. He knew he'd been found out, so he would have to be extra careful. The League would be looking for him, but they had their duties, and he had his…

*   *   *

            Tom took a seat on the empty bed next to Cabrilyn's. The divider curtain had been drawn halfway around, so Cabrilyn could see him sitting there, but anyone walking in the door would see only curtain. "You just let me know if he shows up," he said.

            "Sure," Cabrilyn replied shortly. She was angry with Tom, and Jekyll. She was angry with Skinner a little, too. He had the audacity to tell her to sit, like he was ordering some animal about. _That_ made her angry, but having to stay in the infirmary with Davis running free made her angry _and_ restless. Tom had taken note of her mood, and wisely kept quiet. After a moment of hating her situation, she decided inactivity would only make her more restless, so she scooped up her drawing utensils. At least Tom being here provided her with something to draw, and having to look at him didn't exactly break her heart – Tom was pretty easy on the eyes.

            After a while of listening to the monotonous sound of charcoal scratching paper, Tom finally spoke up. "Can I see?" He asked.

            Cabrilyn inspected her drawing. "Hold on, it's almost done. Just needs some fine-tuning, then you can see." She looked from her drawing to Tom and back again. Something wasn't right, but what was it? Again, she looked at Tom. "Ah-ha," she murmured. It was his eyes. There was a deepness to them she hadn't been able to capture on paper – they were eyes of someone who had to age before his time. Cabrilyn was intrigued. No wonder she felt that Tom was the leader of the League when they'd first met – still young on the outside, but wise beyond his years on the inside.

            Tom cleared his throat, snapping Cabrilyn back to reality – she'd been staring. She quickly went back to her drawing in attempt to cover up her embarrassment, while Tom chuckled softly. After placing her signature on her finished portrait, she handed it to Tom. "What do you think?"

            "Very nice," Tom said. "Is my hair seriously _that_ messy?" Cabrilyn nodded, and Tom laughed to himself. "Catherine?" He asked upon noticing Cabrilyn's signature.

            "Cath…?" She snatched the paper from Tom. There it was, clear as day: _Catherine._ "Oh. Curse my habits. Catherine is my name, my _real_ name."

            "So, where did 'Cabrilyn' come from?"

            Cabrilyn sighed. "When I came to in that morgue, I couldn't go back to being who I was. Catherine was dead as far as everyone else was concerned. So, I took the first few letters of my names and made up a new name. Catherine: C, A; Brittany: B, R, I; Lynné: L, Y, N…"

            "…Cabrilyn," Tom concluded, "Very creative." He sighed and leaned back. It was quiet for a while; only the sounds of the crew bustling about could be heard. After a moment of thought, Tom chuckled to himself.

            "What's so funny?" Cabrilyn asked.

            "I was just thinkin'… you and me are probably the only members of the League who got to attend their own funeral and walk away from it."

            "_I _never got a funeral," Cabrilyn said matter-of-factly. "But you attended your own funeral? This should make for an interesting story."

            Tom sat up. "You really wanna hear it?"

            "Sure," Cabrilyn replied, shrugging. "I'm not going anywhere."

*   *   *

            Skinner had come to a spot where the hallway split off in two separate directions. He had been searching for Davis to the best of his abilities. Now, he was faced with a fifty-fifty chance that he might choose the wrong hallway and miss Davis completely. He looked to his left. That hallway was bustling with activity. Crewmembers were rushing here and there, with tools and ladders and the like. The hallway on his right, however, was practically deserted. It had suffered a large hole, curtsey of the faux Nautilus, and had recently been repaired and painted. The crew and the League were advised to avoid it until the paint dried. _'If I were trying to avoid getting caught,'_ Skinner thought to himself, _'I would want to be where there were no people…'_ With that thought in mind, Skinner turned right and headed down the hall.

            About halfway down the hall, Skinner's guess paid off and invisible man collided with invisible man. Both Davis and Skinner were not sure what hit them – fortunately, Skinner realized it first. He took a wild guess at where Davis was standing and reached out to grab him. Bingo. Skinner firmly grasped the escapee's shoulders and pinned him against the wall.

            "Hello you," Skinner said lightly. Davis struggled to get away, but Skinner held tight. "You're a smart one, aren't you? No matter what you do, you still manage to get yourself caught."

            "Oh, and I suppose you could give me a few pointers?" Davis said sourly.

            Skinner's eyebrows went up; regardless of the fact Davis couldn't see his face. "I might. I've had a bit more practice at being invisible than you." Skinner replied. Davis stopped his struggling – seemingly having resigned to the fact there was no escape. Skinner relaxed his grip ever so slightly, but it was enough for Davis. The soldier broke free of Skinner's grip, and, pushing Skinner to the floor, dashed off down the hall.

            "_He_ won't get very far," Skinner chuckled, hauling himself up. The wall where he'd pinned Davis had just been painted – Davis was running around with a fresh coat of white paint on his back and didn't even know it.

*   *   *

            "Sir, we just received a massage."

            Sanderson Reed and the man to whom he'd been speaking glanced over their shoulders at the soldier in the doorway. "Well, bring it here," Reed said, a slight edge of annoyance in his voice. He did not enjoy being interrupted.

            The soldier handed his commander the paper, and, though he could not see Reed's face, he knew that Reed did not look happy with him. Reed glanced at the paper. "You may go," he said distractedly. The soldier left.

            "What is it?" Reed's companion asked. His thin, bony face was distorted in shadow, and his long white coat had the remnants of bloodstains upon it. Even at first glance, anyone could tell this was a thoroughly unpleasant man. Reed held the paper out to him. The man plucked it away neatly with his long, bony fingers. It was a telegraph, it read:

| **. - . . **| **. **| **. - **| **- - . **| **. . - **| **. **|| **. . . **| **- **| **. . **| **. - . . **| **. - . . **|| **. - . . **| **. .** | **. . . - **| **. **| **. . . **||| **- - - **| **- .** || **. - - **| **. - **| **- . - - **|| **- **| 

**- - - **|| **- . . . **| **. - **| **. . . **| **. **||| **- - **| **- - - **| **. - .** | **. **|| **. - . . **| **. - **| **- **| **. **| **. - . **||| **- . .** | **. -** | **. . . - **| **. . **| **. . . **|||

LEAGUE STILL LIVES. ON WAY TO BASE. MORE LATER. DAVIS.

            The man raised a wiry eyebrow. "Interesting," he said simply, and handed the paper back to Reed.

            "Very," Reed said. "Are you certain she's with them?"

            "Oh yes. I'm one hundred percent positive. How else do you explain your defeat in Washington?"

            Reed cringed. Washington was a touchy subject with him, but he'd learned from his mistake: Never tell all to your enemy, no matter how sure you are. He was certain that he could do what Moriarty could not, but the League was proving to be harder to get rid of than he thought.

            The man stood as tall as his crooked frame would allow, the light coming over his unhandsome features. He chuckled darkly. "I know my work. She will be here."

            Reed raised an eyebrow, "For your sake, she'd better be, Doctor Owen."

            Owen grinned. Not a pleasant sight. "Call me Ulick."

            "Of course, Ulick," Reed said, skillfully disguising his dislike for this thoroughly creepy man. He got up from his chair and showed the infamous Doctor Ulick Norman Owen to the door. Now the pieces were falling into place.

* * *

A/N: I love plot twists! Ahem, anyway, I stole Dr. Owen's name from the play I was in. I shall put a snippet of the play here explaining the reasoning behind the name: _"Ulick Norman Owen… Each time, that is to say, U. N. Owen. Or by a slight stretch of fancy, Unknown."_ (Group oooh!) Get it? Unknown. Very mysterious. The name Davis actually came from that play too. ("That play" being _Ten Little Indians_ based off of the Agatha Christie novel _And Then There Were None_.) Ok, enough of my rambling. I should really start chapter 12 now!


	12. Prepare to Dive

A/N: Hullo all! It took me some time to figure out what to put in this chapter, because, well, there's nothing exciting going on, ya' know? It's just a sort of a "Can we hurry up and get to Sweden already?" sort of chapter.

**Kill Mary Sue ~**If you don't like Cabrilyn, _why _do you keep reading this?

**Steffi ~** Hey! Get your mind out of the gutter… and let mine roll by! :-P

**elven-emma ~ **Skinner with a sharp pointy object? *shudders*

**Zanna Avons ~ **Aww, I'm loved. Ooh, Louisiana! Just like Gambit! [Sorry. I love Gambit.]

**Randomly Placed Disclaimer:** Cabrilyn: mine. Davis: mine. Owen: mine. Everyone else: not mine.

* * *

            "…I thought Aunt Polly was gonna kill me! It was worth it though."

            Cabrilyn laughed, taking delight in Tom's story about attending his own funeral. It had been an interesting experience, getting to know a little more about Tom. "So, what ever happened to Huck?" She asked, curious to know more about the young American and his old cronies.

            Tom went oddly quiet at the question, after a moment, he replied, "Huck… Huck's dead. The Phantom got him…"

            "Oh, Tom, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

            "S'ok. The rest of the League knows – you should too. You _are_ part of the team after all."

            Cabrilyn smiled. It was the first time she'd _really _been thought of as one of the team – though, she was fairly certain that, in his own way, Skinner had already accepted her – but to the rest of the League she was just sort of there – not able to take part in the camaraderie because she hadn't been around for their first adventure. She'd won two of the League members over, and she could only hope the others would come around in their own time. Tom smiled back, but then, he froze. A look of utmost confusion came across his face. Cabrilyn chanced a glance over her shoulder. It was Davis, trying to be stealthy, unaware of the white paint that covered his back. She scooped up another piece of paper and scrawled _'It's Davis. Pretend you don't notice him.' _on it and handed it to Tom. He nodded and set his rifle within reach.

            The pair continued to talk as if they hadn't noticed Davis and his futile attempts to be sneaky. Davis thought that he had managed to get in without Cabrilyn noticing him, and Tom setting his rifle down gave him a sense of security – albeit, a _false_ sense of security, but a sense of security nonetheless. He was silently making his way towards Cabrilyn, and was just about to grab her when Tom snatched up his rifle and aimed it directly at the invisible soldier. Davis was frozen with a mixture of surprise and fright, but it lasted only a moment. He quickly turned tail and bolted for the door.

            "Going somewhere?" Skinner's voice sounded form the doorway. Davis skidded to a halt. He whirled around, looking for some other escape route. Instead, he met with the butt of Toms rifle and fell unconscious to the floor.

            Tom and Skinner looked down at the unconscious man, then at each other. "Man," Tom said, "How many times are we gonna have to knock this guy out?"

*   *   *

            Jekyll had come down to the infirmary to see how Cabrilyn and Tom were holding up. Much to his surprise, he found Tom and Skinner standing over an unconscious Davis. "You really have got to stop beating him over the head like that," he sighed, throwing Skinner a glance. "He won't do us any good if you give him amnesia."

            Skinner threw up his hands defensively. "Hey, it wasn't me. I swear. Sawyer beat him over the head this time."

            Jekyll sighed, not exactly sure whether to believe Skinner or not, when Tom spoke up, "Yes, I did. That guy's a pest. We need some kind of high-security prison for him or something."

            "Well, we won't have to deal with him much longer," Jekyll said. "Nemo just informed me we're ready to get underway. We'll be diving in about half an hour."

            "Good! That means I can get out of this blasted infirmary and get some air," Cabrilyn said, sliding out of bed. There was still a little pain, but not enough to keep her from walking. Jekyll opened his mouth to protest, but Cabrilyn silenced him with a glance that said, _"If you make me stay in this infirmary a moment longer, I will go absolutely mad."_

            "All right," Jekyll said at length. "If you feel you're up to it."

            "Oh, I feel up to it. Believe me."

*   *   *

            The air was cold up on the Nautilus' deck. Cabrilyn sighed, her breath visible in the cold northern air. She had donned her fur coat again and she put her hands into her pockets as she gazed at the scenery; occasionally a lazily drifting iceberg would disrupt the monotony of the ocean.

            "Not much to look at, is it?"

            Cabrilyn turned around. Tom, clad in the same thick winter coat he had worn in Mongolia, was coming out onto the deck, Winchester rifle in hand. "No," Cabrilyn replied. "But it's better than the infirmary. I was beginning to go a little stir-crazy."

            Tom chuckled. "If I were you, I would've gone crazy a _long_ time ago. Especially with Skinner constantly tending to me."

            "He's not so bad," Cabrilyn said. "A little starved for attention, I think. But, then, you'd be starved for attention too if no one could see you." Tom pondered this for a moment, and then gave a nod of agreement. "Speaking of Skinner," Cabrilyn asked, "Where is he?"

            "Oh, he's painting Davis," Tom replied.

            "He's _what?"_

            Tom laughed at the priceless expression on Cabrilyn's face. "Just in case he decides to escape again," he explained. "The paint worked this time. Skinner volunteered for the job. He'd never pass up an offer to torture Mr. But Sir."

            "And, believe me, it was worth it!" The pair turned around. Skinner, also wearing his thick white coat from Mongolia, was behind them. "I don't think I'll ever get over being annoyed by that guy," Skinner grimaced.

            Nemo emerged from the small black door. "We will be diving in a moment," he said.

            "That figures," Skinner commented dryly. "I just get up here and now I have to go back."

            The captain sighed, then, in all sincerity, said, "You can stay up here for a while longer if you like."

            "Really?" Skinner asked brightly.

            "Of course," Nemo replied. "How long can you tread water?"

            "Oh, har-dee-har. You're a riot." Skinner said. "Never mind. I think I'd rather _not _swim to Sweden."

* * *

A/N: This chapter was relatively short, but I, alas, am suffering from a bit of writer's block. Curses. The next one will be better, I promise. The League will _finally _arrive in Sweden.


	13. Snowfall in Sweden

A/N: Indeed, Nemo made a joke in my last chapter. I just thought he needed to make a joke. It's not like he's made out of cardboard, he can have a sense of humor. Hey, cool! I found a couple of Gambit fans! [He had _better_ be in the third movie or I'll…] Ahem, yes, anyway, here we are with chapter 13. Now, allow me to make the League miserable. *evil laugh* Sorry, I'm mean like that. You'll see what I'm talking about, just read!

**Steffi ~** Ugh. I just _knew_ someone was going to take the painting thing the wrong way! Allow me to hoist your mind out of the gutter for you…

**Crystal ~ **Don't be sad, because that would make me sad. Then we'd both be sad and that would accomplish nothing.

**Oogie Boogie ~ ***sings* "Whoa! The sound of the dice to me is music in the air, 'cause I'm a gamblin' Boogie Man, although I don't play fair!" Cool! A fellow _Nightmare Before Christmas _fan!

**Cecily ~ **I hope you are "well chuffed" with this chapter! :-P

* * *

            Snow was falling when the Nautilus surfaced, though the flakes were few and far between, everyone was certain the weather would worsen as the day wore on. The League stood on the deck, surveying the monotonous snow-white landscape. All of them were wearing their heavy coats, save Dorian. The cold obviously had no effect on him, and the snowflakes simply passed through him.

            "Well, this is fun," Skinner commented sarcastically, his breath forming a cloud before his face. "Are we just going to stand here or…"

            Suddenly, the door swung open, and Davis came stumbling onto the deck, having been rudely ushered out by a few of the crew. He too was wearing a heavy jacket – coupled with a coat of white paint on his face and torso, curtsey of Skinner.

            "Oh, hello Mr. But Sir," Skinner said brightly, taking delight in the soldier's misfortune. "Come to join the party?" Davis just glared at him. "Oh, playing the strong, silent type are we?"

            "Skinner, shut up," Tom, Mina, and Dorian chorused.

            Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Sorry," he said. "Excuse me for breathing."

            "It wouldn't be so bad if you didn't have to _talk_ while you were breathing," Tom quipped. He ignored the look that Skinner gave him and turned his attention to Davis. "Let's get hiking. After you," he said and ushered Davis forward with the barrel of his rifle.

*   *  *

            The League, accompanied by some of Nemo's crew, marched for what seemed like hours, their sprits dampened by fatigue and cold – even Skinner had ceased making conversation. Snow was pouring down in heavy, wet flakes now, and a bitterly cold wind whipped at their faces, which made their route that much more difficult. Tom glanced over his shoulder at his companions. The elements were beginning to take their toll, even Mina looked cold and tired. "Davis," he said, pressing his rifle into the invisible man's back, "Is there somewhere we can stop?"

            Davis looked back at the young American in disgust. Tom pressed the gun harder into Davis' back. "Ah! All right, all right. There's a cliff face not far from here. It's not much, but it'll get us out of the snow and wind."

            "Good, lead on," Tom said. They all needed rest, himself included. _'If I _never_ see another snowflake again,'_ he thought as they trudged on through the snow, _'It'll be too soon.'_

            Davis led them on through the snow and wind for the better part of a half-hour before they came to the cliff face. It was a massive wall of dark gray-black rock, peppered with snow. The cliff above jutted out, providing meager shelter from the falling snow. Still, it was better than nothing, and it provided protection against the wind. The tired group sat themselves against the rock wall with much sighing and groaning.

            "I _hate_ snow," Skinner said, trying to restore circulation in his hands by rubbing them together. "Can we build a fire? I'm _freezing."_

            "You're not the only one," Cabrilyn said, seating herself beside him. "I can't feel my feet, _or _my hands." She glanced over at Tom and Nemo. "Can we chance a fire?"

            "It's not a question of chance," Nemo said matter-of-factly. "It's a question of fuel. We have nothing to build a fire with, I'm afraid."

            "Great," Skinner said dryly.

            "At least we're out of the wind," Jekyll interjected. He was seated beside Mina. She, too, was rubbing her hands together for warmth. Jekyll noticed this and gingerly put his hands around hers. Dorian stood nearby, hating every moment of it, but trying not to let it show.

            "Where do we go from here?" Tom asked Davis, who was seated between him and Nemo.

            "Strait up," Davis said, pointing at the rock ledge above.

            Skinner was suddenly alert. "Wait, you mean we have to _climb_ this blasted rock?" Davis simply nodded and Skinner groaned.

            Tom looked at Davis incredulously. "The base is up there? On top of this cliff?"

            "Yes, and yes," Davis said shortly and proceeded to grumble about how stupid Americans were.

            "Dorian, get up there and check it out," Tom said, without taking his eyes off Davis.

            Dorian laughed in a 'you-can't-possibly-be-serious' way. "You want _me_ to go up _there?_ Let me think about that. Um, no."

            "I don't believe I gave you the option," Tom said venomously, still hating Dorian. "Now _go."_

            The immortal simply stared at Tom with a mixture of disbelief and outrage on his perfect face. Still, he couldn't help but feel a small flicker of admiration for the young man – he was stepping into the role as leader quite nicely. After a moment Dorian shrugged – what did he have to loose? It's not like he would be caught or killed. He stepped into the cliff face and disappeared.

            "I'm impressed," Mina said, looking at the place Dorian had gone through. "Dorian was never one to take orders from anyone."

            "What's your secret?" Skinner asked.

            "Skinner…" Tom began.

            "I know, I know," Skinner interrupted. "I'm shutting up now." Cabrilyn let out a small giggle at Skinner's antics. 

            "But then," Mina continued, "I think he's a bit more passive as a ghost – he's got nothing to loose or gain from any of this."

            "Hm… it's not got to be much fun being dead," Skinner mused.

            "Oh, believe me, it's a riot."

            Skinner jumped – Dorian was coming out if the rock directly above him. He chuckled a little at the startled expression on Skinner's face.

            "That was quick," Tom said as Dorian stepped the rest of the way out of the cliff face. "Well?"

            "Oh, it's up there," Dorian replied airily. "I doubt there'll be anyone invisible guarding it in _this _weather."

            Skinner stared up at the rock ledge above. "Really going up there, are we?"

            Tom nodded. "Yep."

            "Oh boy," Skinner said flatly. "Words cannot describe the joy I feel in my heart right now."

*   *   *

            "Nobody say 'don't look down'."

            Tom looked at Skinner, clinging to the rock face directly below him. "Why?"

            "Because then I'll look down," Skinner replied shakily. Tom was certain that, if he were visible, Skinner's face would be the same color as the greasepaint that now covered it.

            "You're afraid of heights?" Mina asked from below. She stifled a laugh. "Skinner, don't look…"

            "Mina," Cabrilyn scolded. "Honestly, if it wasn't Skinner with the fear of heights, I'd expect such a remark from him, not you." She hoisted herself up to Mina's side and looked up at Skinner. "We're almost there, just keep going before I loose the feeling in my hands again."

            Suddenly, Dorian poked his head out of the cliff face, right next to Jekyll. "Jesus!" Jekyll yelped. "Dorian!"

            Tom chuckled. "I hardly see how you could get those two confused."

            Dorian rolled his eyes and issued an exasperated sigh. "Are you coming or not?"

            "We're coming," Tom replied. "This isn't as easy for us as it is for you."

            "Obviously," Dorian muttered and disappeared into the rock once again.

            Jekyll sighed. "I really wish he wouldn't do that."

            "Come on," Tom said. "My arms are falling asleep."

            "That's not a bad thing," Davis muttered from above.

            Tom looked up. "No one asked for your opinion. Shut up and climb."

*   *   *

            Cabrilyn hauled herself over the ledge and strait back into the relentless assault of the elements. "Oh, brilliant," she said, shielding her face from the flying snow. "I think I liked it better on the…" her last words trailed off as she laid eyes on the monstrous fortress before them. It was absolutely massive, composed of dark stone and dirty steel. It looked so much darker and more foreboding against the brilliant white of the snow. Smoke rose from the steel chimneys jutting up from the roof.

            "This seems oddly familiar," Skinner commented.

            "Indeed," Nemo replied. "Hopefully it's as much like M's fortress on the inside as it is on the outside."

            "The only way to know that for sure is to send somebody in there," Tom said. At once, all eyes turned to Skinner.

            Skinner sighed. "Why did I have a feeling this conversation would come back to me? I suppose I… hold on, where's Davis?"

            "Oh no, not again," Cabrilyn sighed. She surveyed the landscape – Davis was nowhere to be seen. "Why couldn't you have painted him purple or something? Now he blends in with the… oh, there he is!" Sure enough, they could just make out Davis, running towards the fortress. Fortunately, the deep snow and harsh wind were slowing his escape.

            Tom sighed. He lifted his rifle, took aim and fired. Davis fell face-first into the snow. "So much for that," Tom replied, lowering his gun.

            "Spoilsport," Skinner grumbled. "I wanted to get rid of Mr. But Sir."

            "I think you'll get your chance," Cabrilyn said. "Look." Davis was hoisting himself up and resuming his mad dash for the fortress gates, though he ran with a slight limp now.

            "I missed," Tom muttered. "I missed…"

            "No, you hit him," Cabrilyn pointed out. "Besides, not the best conditions for shooting. We've got to… where is Skinner?" She looked around – there was no sign of the gentleman thief. "Don't tell me he…" One look at the fortress confirmed her suspicions – Skinner was slipping through the gates, in hot pursuit of Davis.

            "Did he just…?" Tom asked incredulously.

            "Yes," Cabrilyn replied dazedly. "Yes he did."

            Silence reigned over the group. No one knew what to do, or to say. Finally, Tom spoke up, "We've got to regroup and figure out a plan. There's got to be somewhere we can find shelter, come on." The group agreed and solemnly trudged away.

            Cabrilyn threw a glance at the fortress, and whispered a quick prayer for her invisible friend. "Be careful, and please, come out of there alive."

* * *

A/N: This chapter was a cliffhanger – literally! [Get it? 'Cause they were hanging on a cliff? Hehehe!] Ok, bad joke. I'm sorry. Well, I guess this chapter _is_ kind of a cliffhanger. [You never can tell when Skinner will get the urge to do something heroic.] Anyway, I feel this chapter was better than my last one. Hopefully, they will just keep getting better. All right, movin' right along… _in search of good times and good news, and good friends you can't loose. This could become a habit… _[Ok, sorry, I had a random little Muppet moment. I'm very random.]


	14. Waiting for Skinner

A/N: Here I am to save the day! Sorry it took me so long! I have good news though: we now have two computers at my house. My darling sister and I don't have to duke it out for computer time. [I'm not very good at 'duking it out,' obviously.] Oh, and the lovely, but obviously crazy, **schizomaniax **has given me a wonderful idea: **_The Davis Torture Guild. _**Anyone who wants to join must swear upon Skinner's coat that they will torture Davis to the best of their abilities. :-P So, who's in?

**Steffi ~ **You are dirty-minded, Muppet-loving, Monty Python fan! Hehehe! Reminds me of someone I know… hmm, would that be… me?

**Zanna Avons ~ **Pray away. You never know what a good prayer might do…

**Lily Bengal ~ **Ah, my dear editor/ friend, I'm glad we got your stupid computer to work long enough to get you an account!

**schizomaniax ~ **Hey, thank you! Skinner dolls and Gambit plushies for everyone! Ooh, yay! I have Tigers now! They need names!

**funyun ~ **I know how you feel! My homework throttles me a lot, too. Especially with finals coming up.

**LoRseer3350 ~ **Yay! Another Gambit fan! There certainly are a lot of those here. I wonder if I can find some fellow Nightcrawler fans as well… :-P

* * *

            Skinner knew he had two advantages over Davis. One: Davis was wounded. Two: Davis was still covered in paint. Skinner could only hope Davis hadn't seen him coming after him – after all, neither of them had shed their coats outside, in the snow and cold. Skinner wouldn't be any good to anyone if he froze to death. Instead, he shed his clothes just inside the door and stowed them somewhere out of sight.

            _'This _does_ seem very familiar…'_ he thought as he gazed around, taking in his surroundings. _'Now, where did Mr. But Sir go?'_  After a little wandering and looking, he spotted Davis leaning against a stone pillar, trying to catch his breath. His right thigh was wounded and bleeding freely.

            "Davis?"

            Both Skinner and Davis reeled around. There stood one of Reed's soldiers. He was wearing a gray-black uniform, black boots, and a hat that looked as though it were floating in mid air, but was actually perched on his invisible head.

            Davis sighed with relief. "Philip. Just who I wanted to see."

            "Where have you been?" Philip asked. While Davis related his story to his fellow soldier, Skinner was trying to figure out what to do. Now there were _two _invisible soldiers to deal with, and who knew how many more would show up. He needed a plan, and fast.

*   *   *

            The League found meager refuge from the wind behind a large snow bank. It was the only shelter to be found aside from the cliff. They all huddled to get out of the wind as best they could. All of them were tired, cold, and worried. Cabrilyn peered over the snow bank at Reed's fortress for the millionth time.

            "Would you stop that?" Dorian asked shortly.

            "I just can't help but feeling one of us should go in there after him," she replied distractedly.

            Tom rubbed his hands together for warmth. "Skinner's a big boy, he can take care of himself." Dorian scoffed, and received a glare from most everyone present.

            "He's right," Jekyll said reasonably. "I'm certain Skinner will be fine. He's got enough sense to stay out of trouble." Dorian wisely suppressed another scoff, but Mina caught it and rolled her eyes at him. "Besides," Jekyll continued. "We can't risk going in there without knowing what we're up against."

            Cabrilyn issued a sigh and plopped down in the snow next to Tom. "I still think…"

            Tom put a hand on her shoulder reassuringly. "He'll be fine. Don't worry."

*   *   *

            _'I really have to think before I act. If I did, I wouldn't be in this mess right now,'_ Skinner thought, though, he knew he had to stop Davis from relaying his information. After sizing up the enemy, Skinner had formulated a plan, albeit, it wasn't a very good plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. He stealthily made his way up to Davis' crony, Philip, and snatched his gun from its holster. Philip looked bewildered. "Do you mind?" Skinner said and promptly clocked Philip with the gun. "Night-night," he said as he rendered the invisible soldier senseless.

            Davis just stared at the floating gun for a moment. Then, something must have clicked in his brain because he bolted down the hallway with all speed. "Oh no you don't," Skinner said and took off after Davis. Luckily, the wound in his leg slowed him down considerably. Skinner reached out and grabbed the invisible soldier by the shoulder and yanked him to the floor.

            "You know," Skinner said, looking down at the bewildered Davis. "I'm _really _tired of having to chase you everywhere, and I'm positive you're tired of being chased, so let's end this now." He cocked Philip's gun. Davis let out a frightened noise. "Oh, stop it," Skinner said and fired the gun strait up. Pieces of the ceiling came crashing down around the two invisible men. Skinner leapt out of the way while Davis was buried in the rubble. Skinner tossed the gun aside and dusted off his hands. "So much for him," he said and trudged off to do some spying.

*   *   *

            "How long have we been out here?" Tom asked over the howl of the wind.

            Cabrilyn shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

            Jekyll dug into his vest pocket, which was quite a chore with his coat on, and produced his pocket watch. "About half an hour, I think."

            Tom raised an eyebrow. "No wonder I can't feel my legs."

            "How d… d… do you th… think I f… f… feel?"

            The entire group leapt up at the sound of Skinner's disembodied voice. "Skinner! What happened to your coat?" Cabrilyn asked.

            "S… Somebody… l… l… lifted it…" The invisible man shivered violently. Someone produced a spare coat. Skinner took it gratefully and seated himself in the snow.

            "So…?" Tom asked anxiously.

            "The layout is more or less the same as M's old place," Skinner replied. "Weapons and invisibility serum are being mass-produced in there."

            "How? By whom?" Nemo asked.

            "There's no hostages if that's what you're asking. There is one scientist that seems to be in charge of everything," Skinner said, pulling the coat around him tighter. "Reed resides in the penthouse suite, if you will…"

            Tom snatched up his rifle. "He's mine. We've got a score to settle."

            Dorian chuckled condescendingly. "I'm certain you do."

            "Dorian," Mina scolded.

            "All right," Tom said, studiously ignoring Dorian's remark. "Listen up, here's the plan…"

*   *   *

            Sanderson Reed had never really enjoyed being Moriarty's lackey. He was in it solely for the money. Now, though, he would have the money _and_ the power, and perhaps something he craved even more than the money and the power – visibility. Reed longed to be seen again. In fact, it was never really his choice to become invisible in the first place – it was a condition of life or death. Moriarty's words constantly haunted his thoughts: _"Drink it, or die…" _Reed valued his life far too much to refuse, so he drank the invisibility serum. He was a guinea pig for Moriarty and nothing more.

            But things change. Moriarty was dead, and he was not. It was as simple as that.

            Though it gave him a definite advantage over his enemies, Reed hated being invisible. It was a lonely existence. He wanted nothing more than to be visible again. So, when his men brought him word of a brilliant, albeit, slightly mad, scientist taking refuge in a small shack not far from his base of operations, he had the man brought to him immediately. That man was the iniquitous Dr. U.N. Owen.

            Reed demanded that Owen find a cure for his "condition," as he called it. Instead, Owen told him that there already _was_ a cure. It was to be found in one of his former patients. A young woman to whom he restored sight, and, he also informed him, that she was gallivanting with a certain League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Reed didn't ask Owen how he knew that – he was certain the doctor had his sources. His only worry was that he'd just sent his Nautilus after the League. If it fulfilled its mission, then Reed's hopes of visibility would be lost. As luck would have it, the League survived.

            His cure was on its way, but what he didn't realize is that he would have to go through a certain American agent to get it.

* * *

A/N: Wow. I almost feel sorry for Sanderson Reed… almost. Now, it's time for the big battle scenes! [Warning, Fairly Oddparents moment approaching…] "It's violent, it's educational, but mostly violent! Yay violence!" Rightey-o! I'm off to write chapter 15!


	15. Storming the Fortress

A/N: **_The Davis Torture Guild _**is coming along nicely. So far, its members are, my editor/friend **Lily Bengal**, **morph**, **funyun**, the still crazy **schizomaniax**, and me**.** Anybody else want to join? We can torture Davis mercilessly [and hopefully in a parody fic… what do you guys think? Should I invest my time in a **_DTG _**parody fic?] Anyway, aside from giving me Skinner dolls, Gambit plushies, and a crowbar [for the Guild], **schizomaniax **has given me some loverly pet tigers for, and I quote, "any flame disposal and disciplinary purposes." They will be popping up in random author's notes and reviews. Their names are **Remy **[after Gambit, of course], **Bongo **[at the suggestion of my crazy sister], and **Brak **[a cartoon character that I find to be absolutely hilarious!]. Say hello!

**Remy, Bongo & Brak: **Growl…

Guys, be nice. *tigers sulk off to find something, or someone, to gnaw on*  Anyway, moving right along…

**morph ~ **Yikes! I never want to be near you and your long, claw-like nails if you get angry. You are very vicious… which makes you a great addition to the Guild! Hehehe!

**LotRseer3350 ~ **Yup, Fairly Oddparents. I'm a cartoon geek. So sue me.

**Lady Moon3 ~ **I really hope you're not confused any more. I guess I assumed everyone who's seen the movie would remember who Sanderson Reed is. [But, then, you know what the first three letters of 'assume' are!]

**funyun ~ **I _do_ know the fate of Mr. But Sir, and I'm not telling! *sticks tongue out* You'll just have to wait and see!

**schizomaniax ~ **Your reviews never cease to amuse the heck out of me! And, whenever you want me to admit that you are completely and totally insane, I won't hesitate to do so.

**Fritz Will Get You ~** Not very wordy, are you?

**Hoshii-chan ~** Hey! Someone thinks I'm clever! Yay! :-P

**Steffi ~ **Urk… that's quite an evil laugh you've got. Hey! Be nice to Skinner! Don't make me call my tigers!

**Zanna Avons ~ **Consider the wait officially over!

* * *

            The plan was basically the same as it had been the last time the League had to save the world from a madman, with a few changes. There were no hostages to free for one thing, also the League had to be ten-times more wary than before. They had no clue how many invisible soldiers were lurking about in that place.

            Skinner hoisted the strap loaded down with dynamite over his shoulder – he had, once again, volunteered to set the bombs in the furnaces.

            "Are you sure you want to do this?"  Tom asked him for the millionth time.

            "Yes, I'm sure," Skinner replied shortly. "Should be easier the second time around anyway. I just have to watch out for flying sparks and flame-throwers." Tom just raised an eyebrow at this. Skinner was a mystery he would never be able to figure out.

            "Are we all ready?" Mina inquired.

            "As ready as we'll ever be," Tom said, resting his rifle on his shoulder. He was _more _than ready to track down Reed. Tom was certain that if Reed had not taken him hostage, Allan would still be with them. That still haunted his sleep… running through M's fortress, colliding with who he _thought_ was Skinner, those words… _"What makes you think I'm Skinner, hmm?"_ Those words had burned themselves into Tom's memory. They reminded him of his mistake – he had assumed, and he had assumed wrong. Every day, Tom beat himself up for being so stupid. He shouldn't have just _assumed_ that it was Skinner; he shouldn't have let his guard down…

            Cabrilyn came up beside the young American. "Are you all right?" She asked. He had a far-away, angry look in his eyes. She wasn't sure what he was thinking about, but then, there was no way she _could_ know. She had not been part of the League when Tom first encountered Reed.

            Tom snapped out of thought. He blinked a couple of times and cleared his head. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied. The rest of the League remained silent – they knew what he had been thinking about. Tom surveyed his companions. Everyone looked a little anxious, one way or another. Skinner kept readjusting the strap on his shoulder, while Mina just stared off into the distance. Nemo would occasionally move his hand to his sword hilt, Jekyll fiddled with the vial of formula he had in his hands, and Cabrilyn tugged at her coat pockets. In fact, the only one who showed no signs if anxiousness, was Dorian. Somehow, this didn't surprise Tom. He recalled Mina's earlier words, _"…He's got nothing to loose or gain from any of this." _

            "I don't know about you," Skinner said, breaking the silence that had blanketed them. "But I'm ready to get out of this blasted snow."

            Jekyll let out a nervous chuckle. "Indeed," he sad, uncorking the vial of formula. "Let's do this."

*   *   *

            Hyde's monstrous roar echoed through the vast stone fortress.

            Dr. Owen merely glanced up from his work as a herd of soldiers, both visible and invisible, raced by. He chuckled. They wouldn't last very long, he knew what they were up against – he had his sources after all. He almost wished that he could get his hands on some of Jekyll's formula and figure out how it worked, perhaps make some of his own, but those were thoughts for another time. Right now, he was far too busy making preparations. Reed would get his antidote…

*   *   *

            "Right, I'm off this way," Skinner said. He, Cabrilyn and Nemo were coming down one of the many hallways in the fortress. Tom had gone in search of Reed, while Hyde was having fun maiming the soldiers near the entrance and Mina was on a feeding frenzy. No one was sure where Dorian had gone. Cabrilyn and Nemo were to go to the lab and see what damage they could to there before Hyde could show up to wreak some real havoc.

            "Skinner," Cabrilyn said just before the gentleman thief disappeared down another hallway. He paused and glanced back at her. "Be careful," she said. Skinner only lingered for a second longer, a smile playing on his invisible lips. He wasn't sure why, but those two simple words meant a lot to him.

            Nemo and Cabrilyn followed Skinner's instructions and soon found themselves at the laboratory area of the building. It was much like it had been at M's old place – a large, open area full of tables and equipment. Only one thing was different, off to the far right of the room was a door, slightly ajar. Cabrilyn and Nemo exchanged glances. Cabrilyn drew one of her swords. "I'll go in," she said. Nemo was about to protest, but Cabrilyn had already gone.

            Carefully, Cabrilyn pushed the ill-oiled door open. It was unusually heavy, and, for a brief second, she wondered why. That thought was lost when she entered the room. It was an operating room, the place of her nightmares. Very carefully and slowly, she stepped further and further into the poorly lit space. Suddenly, the door slammed behind her. Cabrilyn reeled around and tried desperately to open it. It wouldn't budge. She pounded on the heavy wood and steel door – this place scared her, something about it was not right. "Nemo!" She cried. "Nemo! I'm locked in! Nemo!"

            "There's no use doing that. I'm certain he's quite busy."

            That voice… that voice… she knew that voice. It was seedy and nasal… It grated at her very soul… Cabrilyn turned, clutching her sword to tightly, her knuckles whitened. "You," she said. Malice rang in her voice.

            Dr. Owen merely chuckled. "Hello Catherine. Glad to see you alive and well."

            Cabrilyn glared at him. This was the man the ruined her life. She didn't know, or care how or why he was here. All she knew was this man needed to die. Very carefully, Cabrilyn reached for her other sword.

            "You are a very foolish girl." Owen said nonchalantly. "Then, you probably got that from your parents. They were foolish too." Cabrilyn paused at the mention of her parents. How _dare _he… Then she felt cold steel at the base of her skull. A gun.

            "Are you intending to have me shot?" Cabrilyn asked coolly. She could easily deal with a gunman, invisible or otherwise.

            "In a matter of speaking," Owen replied. Cabrilyn felt the sudden sting of a needle, then her world went black and she collapsed unconscious on the floor.

*   *   *

            Nemo had his hands full. A mob of soldiers had come out of nowhere, swarming the captain. Fortunately for him, he was a skilled fighter, but the odds were against him. As if right on cue, Hyde came barreling down the hall, followed shortly by a flock of bats – Mina.

            Hyde wrapped a monstrous hand around a soldier, and flung him away. The man landed with a resounding crash on one of the tables. One man tried desperately to shoot the monster that was taking out his fellow soldiers left and right, but his aim was poor. Hyde let out a low laugh at the man's attempts. He snatched up a nearby table and swung it with all his strength, clearing out at least a dozen soldiers.

            Mina, in the meantime, was taking out any soldier she could get her fangs on. While Nemo, now that it was no longer a one-sided fight, was doing his share of soldier exterminating. At a lull in the fighting, Nemo suddenly remembered Cabrilyn. He'd heard her cries for help, but there had been nothing he could do. "Hyde," the captain said. "Cabrilyn's trapped behind that door…"

            "I'll get her out," Hyde growled, grinning widely. Any chance for destruction was welcome. Hyde lumbered over to the door, and, after finding it had no fixtures of any kind that he could grab, he rammed it as hard as he could. The door shuddered and groaned under the massive force, but didn't budge. Hyde rammed it again, a bit harder this time, and the door flew off its hinges. He ducked under the doorframe and peered inside. "It's empty," he declared. "Cabrilyn's gone."

* * *

 A/N: Ok, don't be angry with me for ending the chapter right there… aw, heck, be angry with me! I don't care! I was feeling mean and wanted to end this one in a cliffhanger. *evil-type laughter* Bwa-ha-ha-ha-ha! Again I say: Yay violence! *at the mention of violence, tigers come running* No, no violence for you.

**Remy, Bongo & Brak: **Growl? [translation: Why?]

Ok, fine. Go chew on Davis or something. *tigers trot off happily to find Davis* Hehehe, good luck getting him out of the rubble. All right, enough of my ramblings. Onward to the big Tom vs. Reed fight scene!


	16. To the Death

A/N: Okey-tay, before I get into **_DTG _**news and the like, I need to tell you all that I had to bump the rating for this fic up because this chapter gets bloody. I won't tell you the details here but be warned. There's blood. Lots.

Ok, onward to the **_DTG_**_! _Thus far, the roster is as follows: **Lily Bengal**, **morph**, **funyun**, **schizomaniax**, **Lady Moon3**, **LotRseer3350**, **Hoshii-chan**, and yours truly. [That would be me.] Now, if I'm going to turn this little organization into a parody fic, I'm going to need names, brief descriptions and the like from the lot of you. If you don't want to give any of that info, I'm cool with that. I'll figure out what to do. Hehehe, I find it funny that the X-Men are popping up in random reviews. Too funny.

**Lady Moon3 ~ **Yeah, Reed said his name in the movie, but I had to watch the DVD with the captions on before I figured out he was the other invisible man.

**LotRseer3350 ~ **Ooh. Shallow cuts. I remember that episode! You and Lily can come up with fun ways to torture Davis! Oh, yeah! *tosses a steak to the tigers* Here you go guys!

**            Remy, Bongo & Brak: **Growl! [translation: thank-you!] *all three promptly pounce on the steak and devour it*

**Steffi ~ **Hey, I found Dorian! [And thanks for the idea! You'll see what I mean…] Nothing dirty for my last chapter! Shame on you! Hehehe, j/k! I'm sure you'll find plenty of dirty things to say about this chapter anyway…

**schizomaniax ~ **Ooh! One of Pyro's lighters! I like fire! *maniac giggles* Yay for fire! *Pyro looks at lighter wistfully* Aww. Here, Pyro, here's one of Reed's flame-throwers that the League commandeered way back in chapter 6. And for you, schizomaniax, here are Skinner's sunglasses! [I stole them when he wasn't looking! Hehehe!]

**morph ~ **Urk… be careful with that chainsaw, wouldja? *ducks behind table* You're starting to scare me!

**Hoshii-chan ~ **Ok, you can paint Davis all you want! [I vote plaid. That would be fun!]

**funyun ~ **Hehehe! Remy, Bongo & Brak are now the official mascots of the **_DTG_**_! _

**            Remy, Bongo & Brak: ***laugh evilly* [that is, if tigers _can _laugh… aw, heck, _mine _can laugh!]

**Lily ~ **Aw, you can't _hate _me! I'm far too loveable for that! C'mon, admit it! Don't make me do the "Dance Dance" dance!

**Niani ~ **Bats do come in flocks, you know.**__**

* * *

            Sanderson Reed was in his room, on the uppermost floor of the fortress, blissfully unaware of the scene that was taking place below. That is, until Davis' crony, Philip came barging in. The soldier's sudden appearance startled Reed, who had been idly leafing through a rather dusty novel. Reed glared at the young man. "What do you want?" He demanded.

            "Sir…" Philip panted while nursing the welt on his head. "Sir… the League…"

            Reed promptly set down his book, the mention of the League having captured his full attention. "Yes?" He prompted. "What of them?"

            "They're here," an American-accented voice said behind Philip. Tom came up behind the invisible soldier and rendered him senseless with the butt of his rifle.

            "Well, if it isn't you," Reed said lightly. He snatched up his book and flung it at the young American, but Tom was ready. He merely batted it away with his rifle – he wasn't going down _that _easily. Reed leapt from his chair and bolted for the exit on the opposite side of the room. Tom took off in pursuit and soon found himself in an empty hallway. The young American looked around him. Reed's clothes lay in a heap not too far from the door.

            "Damn it," Tom muttered. Now he would have to fight an invisible foe. _'What I wouldn't give for some flour right now…' _He thought as he surveyed the hall for any sign of Reed. All of a sudden, Tom's rifle was violently wrenched from his grasp. The floating Winchester was now aimed directly at its former owner.

            Reed chuckled darkly as he cocked the rifle. "Say hello to Quatermain for me." With that, he pulled the trigger. Nothing happened – just a soft click. Out of desperation, Reed attempted to fire again. Just the same soft click. "It's not loaded," he realized.

            Now it was Tom who chuckled. "Nope," he said, drawing his pistols. "But these are."

*   *   *

            Cabrilyn slowly opened her eyes. She was not in the same room where she had lost consciousness. This place was brighter, for one thing, and cleaner, but just as frightening. Cabrilyn was lying on a cold steel table. Her wrists, ankles and waist were shackled down. She couldn't move, but she struggle nonetheless.

            Owen came strolling in, surveying the struggling young woman with a bemused expression on his face. "It's a pity I have to do this. You were my finest work," he said, picking up a scalpel and examining it.

            "What are you talking about?" Cabrilyn demanded, her voice trembling slightly with fear. "What are you going to do?"

            "How can I put this in terms you'll understand?" Owen asked patronizingly. "I'm going to reverse my initial operation, in a matter of speaking. Unfortunately for you, you won't live through the procedure. Pity." His seedy, nasal voice showed not even the slightest hint of pity.

            Cabrilyn scoffed. "I lived through your last one, didn't I?"

            Owen merely raised an eyebrow. "More or less. If your talking about waking up in the morgue, that was a bit of a creative touch on my part." Cabrilyn stared at the doctor. "Oh, yes," Owen continued. "Everything from your blindness to the morgue was my doing." Cabrilyn gaped. So, she was not a failed experiment after all. In fact, she was one of Owen's greatest successes. "Now," the doctor said, scalpel in hand, "Please try to lie still – I can't have you fidgeting while I'm trying to operate, can I?"

*   *   *

            Reed had dropped Tom's rifle and bolted. Just when he was thought he had lost his pursuer, he ran into someone he did not expect – Dorian Gray. Dorian was amusing himself by pestering a soldier, who was trying again and again to stab Dorian with a dagger.  Dorian would merely laugh as the knife went through him and land the soldier a punch in the face. The soldier would try again, thinking that if Dorian could hurt him, then surely he could hurt Dorian.

            "Dorian Gray?" Reed blurted, not exactly meaning to say anything out loud.

            Dorian stopped in mid-laugh and stared at the place where Reed's voice had come from. The soldier tried again to stab Dorian. The immortal put on a look of annoyance and wrenched the knife from the soldier's hand. He promptly slew the young man with his own knife. "Well, Sanderson Reed," Dorian commented, stepping over the dead solder to where he presumed Reed was.

            "I thought they killed you," Reed replied, careful to keep his distance.

            "Funny," Dorian said in bemusement, "I was about to say the same about you."

            Tom came sprinting around the bend, loaded rifle in hand. "Dorian!" He cried at the sight of the immortal. "Where's Reed?"

            Dorian chuckled. "He's right here," he replied, reaching out, but he found Reed was no longer there. "Well, he _was _right here."

            Tom was about to remark about how blatantly obvious that statement was, when he saw a floating knife, the same one that Dorian had previously buried in the body of the soldier, coming strait for him. "Oh, boy," Tom muttered. "Here we go again." As Reed struck with the knife, Tom blocked with his rifle. Dorian raised his eyebrows as he watched – Tom had much better reflexes than he'd expected, and was faring quite well. Tom knocked the invisible man back against a wall, but Reed was undeterred and came at Tom just as quick as before.

            "This is getting _real _old," Tom said. He swung his rifle like a baseball bat, catching Reed on the side of the head as he approached. The invisible man fell to the floor, loosing his weapon in the process. Reed scrambled for the knife, but Tom kicked it away and landed Reed another blow with his rifle. Reed groaned. Tom took a wild guess at where Reed's head would be, and swung again with his rifle. He guessed right, and Reed collapsed into an unconscious heap on the floor. Tom made no more efforts to hurt the unconscious man.

            Dorian stared at the younger man. "What are you waiting for? Shoot him already."

            "No," Tom said. "This cannot be a fight to the death – more's the pity." He grinned slightly. Quatermain would be proud of him for that. Tom nudged the unconscious Reed with his foot and looked up at Dorian. "Come on. Let's go before this place explodes."

*   *   *

            Skinner had finished placing the bombs and was intent on getting out of the building before they went off. He was making his way down one of the many halls, trying to remember which way he'd come from, when he heard something he never thought he'd hear – Cabrilyn screaming. Just the sound of it made Skinner's blood run cold. He took off down the hall at full run, following Cabrilyn's cries. Suddenly, Cabrilyn stopped screaming and silence reigned. A million thoughts raced through Skinner's mind, and he prayed that, if he found her, it wasn't too late.

            The gentleman thief saw light coming from beneath a door near the end of the hall. That had to be where Cabrilyn was. He raced up to the door and opened it just enough to see inside – he didn't want to barge in, just in case. "Oh my God…" he breathed. What he saw was horrendous. Cabrilyn strapped to the table, her face covered in blood, passed out from the pain. That was how Owen got his kicks. Since he knew Cabrilyn wouldn't survive, he did not want to waste any sedative on her. Owen was standing over the unconscious young woman, his hands much in the same condition as Cabrilyn's face – covered in blood, Cabrilyn's blood. The doctor went to a nearby sink and retrieved a towel. He dabbed off his patient's face a little with it. "This is very hard to do with you bleeding all over the place," he commented, though he knew Cabrilyn was out cold.

            When Owen turned to replace the towel, Skinner slipped noiselessly in the room. The invisible man tried very hard not to look at Cabrilyn, but found he couldn't tear his eyes from her. Blood coated her eyes and forehead and was matted in her hair. Her wrists and ankles were rubbed raw from fighting the shackles. She'd put up a good fight, but her attempts had been futile. At the sight of her, Skinner wanted to cry and be sick at the same time. She had been right, Owen was mad as hell, and he deserved to die… a _very _painful death.

            Owen had now snatched up another scalpel and was turning it over in his hands as though he were inspecting it. He gave a small grunt of approval and bent over Cabrilyn again. In a fit of sudden rage, Skinner swatted the scalpel from Owen's hand, slicing his own hand open in the process, but the pain didn't matter. Not now, not while there was so much more at stake. "What on earth…?" Owen yelped. He backed against the sink, searching wildly for who, or what, ever had taken him by surprise. "Who's there?" He demanded, reaching behind him into the sink.

            Skinner snatched up the scalpel that he'd caused Owen to drop, unknowingly giving Owen a target. Owen hurled the bloody towel at Skinner. It hit him dead on, spattering blood all over him. Skinner seemed undeterred by the fact the now he could be seen and kept coming at the mad doctor. Just when Skinner was almost upon him, Owen dipped his hand into the sink again and brought up another scalpel. The doctor swung his weapon that the gentleman thief. Skinner moved aside, but not before Owen sliced his cheek. Ignoring the wound, Skinner ducked as Owen swung again.

            "Damn you!" Owen raged, slashing wildly with the scalpel, but Skinner was one step ahead of him.

            The invisible man caught hold of Owen's arm. "No," Skinner said, his words ringing hate. "Damn you." In one swift movement, Skinner plunged the scalpel into the doctor's chest. The mad man let out an anguished gasp, and then with a groan and a gurgle, he collapsed dead on the floor.

*   *   *

            An explosion rocked the building to its very foundations. Nemo steadied himself on the wall. Mina did the same. "Nemo," Mina said over the noise of falling rubble. "We have to get out of here!"

            "No," Nemo said adamantly. "We've got to find…" His last words trailed off as Skinner, spattered with blood and carrying an unconscious Cabrilyn in his arms, came barreling around the corner.

            Mina let out a small gasp. "Skinner… what?" 

            "No time for that now," Skinner said, sounding clearly traumatized. "Let's get out of here!"

            "Here," Hyde offered, "Let me carry her." Skinner looked up at the monstrous Mr. Hyde, slightly surprised that he would offer to do such a thing, and carefully placed Cabrilyn in his arms. Another explosion shook the quickly collapsing building.

            "Come on!" Nemo called and they raced for the door. 

*   *   *

            Tom and Dorian watched as the fortress collapsed into the snow, the wreckage spewing orange flame and jet-black smoke. Both were wondering where the rest of the League was, and were worried that neither of them had spotted them yet. "They should be out her by now," Tom said, surveying what once was Reed's fortress.

            Dorian shrugged, trying not to let his concern for the others show.

            "Sawyer!"

            Tom and Dorian reeled around. It was Mina, followed by Nemo, Skinner and Hyde, who still had Cabrilyn in his arms. "Oh my God! What happened to her?" Tom asked.

            "Two words," Skinner replied. "Doctor Owen."

            "Doctor…? Skinner, what happened to _you?"_

            Before Skinner could respond, a very familiar voice cried out from nowhere, "My hands! I can't see my hands!"

            "Oh good Lord," Skinner sighed. "Davis?"

            "Who?" Davis' disembodied voice replied.

            Hyde let out a low chuckle. "It appears you succeeded in giving him amnesia after all."

* * *

A/N: Yes, I know. Davis lives. He was too much fun to have around, and now Skinner can harass him mercilessly because he doesn't remember who he is! Hehehehehehehe! Ahem… yes. Well. We'll get into how he survived and how he got out and all that jazz later. I promise. :-P Right-o. I'm done rambling now.


	17. Conscience

A/N: All right. All things that were confusing in my last chapter shall be explained in this one. Never fear. Hm, the general consensus so far is that Dr. Owen is _really _creepy [well, _was _really creepy. He's dead now.] Good. He was supposed to be creepy! [And, believe me, it was fun to let my demented side run wild while I was writing…] XP Also, for all of you **_DTG_**-ers who feel bad about torturing someone with amnesia, don't worry – I can bring Davis' memory back for the purpose of the **_DTG _**parody fic, but for now it's fun to have him not remember a darned thing. XP

**Chasten-chan - **I'm glad you like it!

**morph - **You _really _enjoy torturing Davis, don't you? You are _very_ vicious! 

**LotRseer3350 - **Do you remember when Quatermain said that M had to be taken alive if his secrets were to be uncovered? Same thing goes for Mr. Reed. XP

**funyun - **Reed had the help of my father's construction company, that's how he got his base built so fast! [Ok, not really. My dad doesn't work for evil people.] Hehehe, look, I'm advertising. Dad should pay me for that. XP A skin graft scar on your right arm? I have a scar on my neck that makes me look like I had my throat slit. [I didn't really, but it's fun to tell people that!]

**Hoshii-chan - **Don't feel sorry for Davis. He's not worth it. XP

**schizomaniax - **Yay for clever Tom and twisted Dorian!Dude, I love Slinkies! ::sings:: "Slinky, slinky. It's more than a toy, it's a friend…!" [I'm not particularly fond of Doritos, though. I'm more of BBQ Lays girl.] Hm… Pyro in the **_DTG_**_? _Sounds kinda scary. I doubt Skinner has anything _left_ in his closet – we've taken everything… haven't we?

**Niani - **Now, when you say "Skinner torture," do you mean torturing Skinner, or having Skinner torture someone else?

**Lady Moon3 - **Well, you just wait… the guilt is about to set in! Urk, what suicidal thing, might I ask?

Oh, just a **_DTG _**note – when I asked for names, I really don't care if it's your real name or not. I just need something by way of a nickname that I can call you in the fic – something simple, and preferably devoid of any numbers [so, _funyun _is perfectly fine.] If you don't want to give that info in a review [which is understandable] you can e-mail it them to me. [For those of you who are 'anonymous' reviewers, I'm sorry you can't access my e-mail address.] Okey-tay, enough of that. Onward!

* * *

Sleep evaded Skinner. The bandages on his hand and cheek served as constant reminders of what he'd done – he'd killed someone. Now, not only was he a thief, he was murderer too. True, Owen had been a madman, and probably responsible for his share of murders, but still… he was dead by Skinner's hand. Skinner had never killed anyone before. He would knock people unconscious – that was it. Just grab a book or a gun and beat someone with it, never kill. Mina killed to eat, Sawyer and Nemo killed in defense and Jekyll… well, Jekyll never killed – that was Hyde's job. _'Great,' _Skinner thought bitterly. _'Just toss me in the same category as Hyde and Dorian.'_ He slid out of bed, resigning to the fact that sleep would probably elude him for a _very _long time. The gentleman thief pulled on his coat and headed for the deck.

The Nautilus had remained docked in Sweden. Even with Reed in captivity and the base destroyed, the League did not want to risk leaving any loose ends. After all, a loose end was the whole reason for their recent ordeal anyway. Everyone had been mystified, Tom especially, as to how Reed had survived Quatermain shooting him. Tom had been standing _right there_ and he could've sworn Reed had died. No one knew how he'd survived, except Reed himself, and he wasn't telling. Davis was another issue altogether. The League had agreed to take the invisible man to the nearest town and leave him, to which Davis responded with very loud pleas, begging the League not to abandon him somewhere with no memory of who he was. So, until the League could figure out what to do with him, Davis was living on the Nautilus, much to the displeasure of everyone else on board.

On his way out, Skinner slipped past the infirmary, and peeked inside before he continued on. Cabrilyn lay in one of the beds in blissful unconsciousness. Jekyll had done what he could, but he had nowhere the surgical skill that Owen had. Skinner worried for her constantly. Her wounds were not fatal, but the trauma had done its damage. She would be in that infirmary for a while. Every time Skinner thought about what Owen had done to her, somehow he felt his murdering Owen was justified, but it was a fleeting feeling. Murder was murder.

It was freezing cold on the Nautilus' deck, but Skinner didn't care. He'd been in a daze since the whole of what had taken place in Reed's fortress had sunk in. _'Being part of the League is not the most joyful of occupations,' _Skinner decided as he stared out at the dark ocean waters._ 'Everywhere you turn, someone's dieing, or killing…' _He sighed. He was exhausted, but his restless mind wouldn't let him sleep. He wasn't exactly sure he wanted to sleep anyway, for fear of dreaming.

"Having a pity-me party?"

Skinner chuckled mirthlessly, not bothering to turn around. "What the hell do you want Dorian?"

Dorian, in all his semi-transparent glory, strode up beside Skinner, a smirk playing on his face. "Not in a very good mood, are we?" The gentleman thief merely glanced at Dorian and offered no reply to his snide remark. Dorian raised an eyebrow at Skinner's silence. "Obviously not," he said, answering his own question. Dorian leaned against the rail and began humming softly.

"You're very annoying, do you know that?" Skinner said agitatedly.

The immortal laughed. "And you're not?"

Skinner issued an annoyed sigh. "Would you just _go away?" _

"Oh, come now," Dorian said. "Rogues and murderers cannot fall out."

_That _caught Skinner's attention. He had not told anyone he'd killed Owen – it was something he would rather keep to himself, at least for the time being. He stared at Dorian, waiting for some explanation for his prior remark.

After a while, Dorian shrugged. "Alright, so you don't like the company of rogues and murderers." Then, as an afterthought, added, "You're on the wrong ship, then."

"Goddamn ghost," Skinner muttered. He _really_ hated Dorian and his cynicism right now. Dorian chuckled softly at Skinner's remark, and then went quiet. For a long time, the only sound was the lapping of the ocean waves. At length, Skinner asked, "How can you live with it?"

Dorian was taken aback by the sudden question, but more so by Skinner's serious tone. Nonetheless, he replied with a sarcastic, "I don't _live_, remember?"

Skinner rolled his eyes. "I mean, how do you live with your conscience?"

The immortal chuckled. "I got rid of that wretched thing a long time ago," he replied matter-of-factly.

_'Of course,'_ Skinner thought. _'Only Dorian would regard his conscience as a 'wretched thing'.' _Then a thought occurred to him that made him think that Dorian was not completely devoid of morals. "Then, why did you help us?"

"What do you mean 'help'? I never helped," Dorian said defensively.

"Oh yes you did," Skinner said. "We'd all be at the bottom of the ocean right now if not for you. You helped. Why?" In response, Dorian scowled. This conversation had taken a wrong turn as far as he was concerned and it didn't need to go any further. Skinner chuckled lightly at the immortal's silence. So, perhaps Dorian had a conscience after all, he just wouldn't admit to it.

* * *

Dawn came, but it came slowly for Skinner who had only caught little naps the entire night. Come breakfast, he was exhausted and didn't have much of an appetite. He only poked idly at his food with his fork, paying little or no attention to those around him.

Tom exchanged a worried glance with Mina. Skinner had been a wreck since the fortress. No one knew why either. Skinner had told them that Owen died when the building collapsed on him, and the reason he had been covered in blood was from his trying to free Cabrilyn. No one knew what had really taken place, which made Skinner feel that much more distant. He knew that the others did not think very highly of him, but he would much rather not change their opinions by telling them.

"So," Tom said in attempt to end the uncomfortable silence around them. "How's Cabrilyn doing?'

"Oh, um, she should be awake by now," Jekyll replied. "But she received quite a shock."

_'You have no idea,' _Skinner thought grimly.

"Those bandages will have to stay on for another couple of days," the doctor continued. "She's lucky." He cast a glance down the table at Skinner, who issued no visible reaction. It went quiet again. Tom's attempt a conversation had died, and he didn't try to resurrect it.

After a while, Skinner set down his fork, and without explanation, left the dining room. The others made no argument, they just watched him go, concern on their faces. They had never seen Skinner so somber, and it worried them. After Skinner's exit, the silence remained for a long while until the sudden din of pots and pans crashing to the floor shattered it.

"I'm sorry!" Davis called from the kitchen.

Tom groaned. "Davis! Get out of there!" He called back. Without any remembrance of his military training whatsoever, Davis was a bumbling idiot. He was constantly knocking things over, dropping stuff, or running into things. It was pitiful really. Davis had been a clever man, albeit, a wicked man, but clever nonetheless. Now, though, he was a whimpering, uncoordinated fool. To make matters worse, Jekyll had surmised that nothing short of dropping another building on Davis would get his memory back. So, they were stuck with Davis and his clumsiness for a while.

Davis stumbled into the dining room, having been rudely ushered out by the cook. He moodily brushed off his shirt and pants, borrowed from Tom after much negotiation. "Some people!" He said, and then nearly withered under the look Nemo gave him. Davis chuckled nervously. "Heh, heh… erm… I think I'll be going now," he said and quickly left, nearly upending a chair as he went.

"Remind me why we keep him around?" Tom asked, rubbing his temples.

Jekyll chuckled. "Conscience."

* * *

A/N: Wow. This chapter got kind of angsty. Oh well. Angst seems to be part of being in the League. A few more chapters, and this loverly piece of work should be completed! [I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing…] Right-o, remember to send me your **_DTG _**stuff! 


	18. Bandages Removed

 A/N: Here it is. The final chapter. The end is here. I want to thank everyone who reviewed for making this a _very_ successful first fic. So, thank you all so, _so _much. I am truly grateful for all of your feedback. Much love. – _Krisian_

**LotRseer3350 – **Like Faith or Drusila? Interesting choice of characters there.

**schizomaniax – **A slinky named Mr. Shinkers? Fun! Hey, if you want to keep Pyro, go ahead. I'm not stopping you. Oh my Bessie! I remember that commercial! It freaked me out, too! Ugh!

**funyun – **Yes, **_DTG_** stuff would be descriptions, and I've already got yours. So many questions! Never fear! You shall get your answers!

**morph – **Is 'huggles' a word? Oh well, if it wasn't, it is now. You're from Canada, eh? Sorry, couldn't resist, eh? [Urk! There I go again!] Ooh, tickle torture! ::maniac giggles::

**Zanna Avons – **Hmm angst… lets see… angst is basicallya dark story about a character's emotional suffering. Viola.

**Lady Moon3 – **Ok, now I'm worried about you. Urk.

**Hoshii-chan – **You and your conscience! Stop feeling sorry for Davis already! He's a big boy – he'll get over it.

**Lily Bengal – **No, Owen is dead and needs to stay that way. You and Seer [or Anya… I haven't decided yet] need to consult about torture methods. XD

**Steffi – **Wow. I'm flattered. You just like making Dorian glare at you, don't you? XD

**elven-emma – **Yay! Another member of the **_DTG_**_! _Huzzah! Hm… Helen in the **_DTG _**would be interesting.

**Fritz Will Get You – **Hey, I'll take that chocolate. I can give it to Skinner. [Yeah, right. Hehehe!] Erm… who's Arrele?

* * *

            "Erm… Mister Skinner, can I ask you something?"

            Skinner stopped in mid-step, and turned around slowly. "Is this going to be a personal question, Davis? Because, in case you don't remember, I don't like you very much." Skinner knew it wasn't a very tactful thing to say, but he had been annoyed with Davis _before _he'd lost his memory, and now he was _supremely_ annoyed with him. Davis constantly tried to pal around with Skinner, seeking advice or something of the sort. Apparently, Davis figured that the fact that both he and Skinner were invisible was enough grounds for friendship – was he ever wrong.

            Davis was taken aback by Skinner's remark. He had no knowledge of _why_ Skinner disliked him so much, but that was the norm for him as of late. It was not easy to try to live a life with no knowledge of who he was, or how he came to be invisible, much less why everyone on the ship despised him so much. No one would offer an explanation to any of it. They would simply usher him away and tell him they would talk about it later. After a moment, Davis shrugged. At least Skinner was blunt about it. No excuses. It was obvious – he didn't like Davis, and didn't want him around. "All right," Davis said at length. "Perhaps I'll ask another time." He turned to go and ran smack into a hall table, dumping its contents onto the floor. "Oops," he said nervously. "I suppose I should pick that up, huh?"

            The gentleman thief merely sighed and turned away, muttering, "Good Lord, the Nautilus is doomed." He left Davis to fumble with the things on the floor and continued down the hall until he reached the infirmary. He peeked in before entering. Cabrilyn appeared to be asleep, but with the bandages over her eyes, there was no way to be certain. Very quietly, so as not to disturb her if she was sleeping, he moved to the bed next to hers and sat down. There was a soft crinkling noise and Skinner quickly stood, he'd sat on something – a piece of paper. He scooped it up. It was Cabrilyn's sketch of Tom sitting on that very bed, rifle in hand. Skinner wasn't sure what to make of this discovery.

            "You never stuck around long enough for me to draw one of you."

            Skinner jumped slightly, dropping the drawing. Cabrilyn hadn't even stirred before she spoke.

            Cabrilyn chuckled at Skinner's startled gasp. She hauled herself up to a sit. "So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" She did not turn to look at Skinner; she merely stared strait ahead as if she were not sure where Skinner was standing.

            "I just wanted to see how you were," Skinner replied. "So, how are you?"

            "I could be better… much better." She scoffed. "I kept having dreams, nightmares really, about Owen and that operating room, and…" Her voice trailed off. She was quiet for a moment and, very gingerly she touched a hand to her bandaged eyes. "And the pain." She turned in Skinner's general direction. "What happened?"

            "What happened?"

            "Yes, to Owen," Cabrilyn replied. "What happened to him?"

            "Owen… well," Skinner was not entirely prepared to answer this question to Cabrilyn. "He… he died. The ceiling fell on him…"

            "The ceiling?" Cabrilyn did not sound entirely convinced. "Skinner…"

            "What?" Skinner said defensively. "He's dead. That's that."

            There was an uncertain silence between the two. Skinner could tell Cabrilyn was thinking – trying to figure out what it was he wasn't telling her. Suddenly, it clicked to her. "My God," she breathed. "You killed him, didn't you?" The shocked silence that followed was answer enough for Cabrilyn. "Skinner… look, you shouldn't feel bad. Owen deserved what he got…"

            "He might have, but I was _right there,_" Skinner said. "Right in his face. I saw the life just leave him, and it was my doing…"

            "Skinner," Cabrilyn interrupted. "Stop. You did what you had to do. There's no other way of putting it," she paused before making her next statement. "I owe you my life…" She laughed inwardly. Now she knew how Tom felt, except Skinner had _killed _for her. He had not simply knocked Owen out and left him be – he'd _killed._

            "Look, Cabrilyn, I…" Skinner began.

            "Oh, beg pardon."

            Skinner turned around. Jekyll was standing at the foot of Cabrilyn's bed. Skinner sighed.

            "Am I interrupting?" Jekyll asked, ever the gentleman.

            "No, not at all," Skinner said dryly, seating himself on the empty bed again.

            The doctor raised an eyebrow at Skinner and then went back to business. "I think we can take those bandages off now," he said.

            Cabrilyn smiled. "Good. For once, I'd be nice to be looking at this infirmary."

            Jekyll chuckled. "You certainly spend a lot of time in here, don't you?" He bent over her and carefully undid the bandages, removing layer upon layer of gauze.

            When he was through, Cabrilyn sat in silence for a long moment, her eyes unblinking, unmoving. "Well?" She said. "Aren't you going to finish?"

            "I… I _am _finished," Jekyll replied. He shot a worried look at Skinner.

            Cabrilyn went suddenly quiet. "Then…" she said, her voice barley audible. "Then, why can't I see you?"

* * *

            Tom was en route to the infirmary to see Cabrilyn when he ran into Jekyll and Skinner. Jekyll had a saddened look on his face, and what kind of look Skinner had on his face was anyone's guess. "Doctor?" Tom questioned. "What happened?"

            "She's blind," Jekyll said, casting a glance in the direction of the infirmary. "I did all I could, but Owen has done his damage. She's lost her sight."

            "Again," Skinner added bitterly.

            Tom raised his eyebrows at Skinner's remark. "How's she takin' it?" He asked Jekyll.

            "She wishes to be alone for the moment," the doctor replied. "I don't blame her."

            "Ironic, isn't it?" Tom said. "She's right back where she started."

            "Indeed," Jekyll replied. "Fate can be a very unpredictable thing."

* * *

            Cabrilyn was running through the gamut of emotions. Denial had come and gone, as had anger. Now, realization and despair had set in. She was blind. There was no changing that now, especially with Owen dead. He had taken his secret to restoring her sight to his grave. Now she felt worthless. She was of no use to the League any more, and she couldn't fid any reason that they would keep her around. They would probably just take her back to London and leave her. She wanted to stay, with every fiber of her being, but she would just get in the way. She _was _worthless.

            She wanted out of the infirmary. Being alone with her thoughts was not the best of things. Groping about blindly, she found the bedpost and hauled herself up. She painstakingly made her way across the room to where she thought the door would be. She was nearly there when her foot came across a chair, she stumbled and tried to regain her footing, but to no avail. She fell. Cabrilyn braced herself for the hard hit of the wooden floor, instead, she found herself stopped by a pair of arms. Someone had caught her.

            "Take it easy, you," that unmistakable Cockney accent said. Skinner pulled Cabrilyn to her feet. "You aught to be more careful."

            Cabrilyn sighed, a small smile playing on her lips. "How is it that every time I fall, you're there to catch me?"

            Skinner issued a slightly awkward chuckle, but said noting. He couldn't help but be drawn to Cabrilyn's eyes – milky-blue, sightless. She bore two fine scars on her face, running from the outside of each eye to her temples. Permanent reminders of just how much Owen knew what he was doing, and how scary a thought that was. Only then did Skinner realize he didn't know what color Cabrilyn's eyes had been before she went blind. How come he had never looked? He couldn't even remember if they had been light or dark in color. He was kind of upset with himself about that, and rather curious as to why he suddenly cared what color her eyes were. "Where did you think you were headed anyway?" He said, in attempt to divert his thoughts in another direction.

            "Anywhere but here," Cabrilyn replied sourly.

            Skinner raised an eyebrow. "Might I suggest getting some fresh air, then? I just heard a rumor we'll be taking good ol' Sanderson Reed back to London, and we'll be diving soon," Skinner said. He located Cabrilyn's coat and helped her into it.

            "Back to London?" Cabrilyn questioned. She had been hoping that they wouldn't head strait back there. She didn't want to have to leave right away.

            "Yes. We're going to leave him with the proper authorities. That would be Sawyer's idea. A bit unsporting, I think." Skinner shrugged. "Shall we?" Cabrilyn hesitated – she did not like having to rely on someone else for a task as simple as walking. After a moment, she held out her hand and soon found Skinner's arm. The gentleman thief guided her up to the Nautilus' deck and out into the bitter cold of the Swedish climate.

            The wind blew softly – just enough to make it feel so much colder than it already was. Cabrilyn hugged her coat around her. She felt something wet and cold on her cheek. "Is it snowing?" She asked.

            Skinner looked up, only to catch a snowflake right in the eye. He grumbled and blinked it away. "A little," he replied. "I still don't like snow. I think I've been scarred for life."

            "Scarred?" Cabrilyn chuckled. There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.

            Skinner cringed. "Sorry. I didn't…"

            "No, I know you didn't," Cabrilyn replied softly. "It's just… you're probably going to leave me in London aren't you?"

            "Why would we do something like that?" Skinner asked. The question had caught him off guard just as much as Cabrilyn's worried, almost helpless, tone.

            Cabrilyn sighed. "I'm no good to any of you now. I'm just a poor, blind, helpless…"

            "Now, hold on," Skinner interrupted. "Blind or not, you're still a member of this League. We won't just dump you somewhere. Besides, I…" he paused and bit his lower lip. "I don't want you to go."

            "I don't want to go either," Cabrilyn replied. Another snowflake alighted on her cheek and melted against the warmth of her skin. Skinner reached up and, very gently, wiped it away.

            Cabrilyn tuned her sightless eyes toward him and chuckled bemusedly.

            "What?" Skinner asked. He saw nothing funny.

            "I was just amused that only a couple of weeks ago, we annoyed each other so bad, and now here we are…" the rest of her sentence trailed off as Skinner pulled her into his embrace.

            "I know," he said. "Fate can be a very unpredictable thing."

* * *

            The Nautilus was now en route to London. Tom walked leisurely down the halls. Reed was in captivity, and would soon be in the hands of the proper authorities. As far as he was concerned, all was right with the world. That was, until he came around the corner to find Cabrilyn and Skinner walking arm-in-arm, close enough to suggest there was something more between them than simple friendship. Tom sighed inwardly. So far, he was zero for two. Mina had Jekyll, and now, Cabrilyn had Skinner.

            As he watched them disappear around the corner, for some odd reason, he remembered what Skinner had told him in the alley what seemed like forever ago, _"…you'll get other chances. You're young, good-looking and, well, you're normal…" _He would get other chances – he knew that. Besides, the Nautilus would be docked in London for, who knew how long? Perhaps he would find someone. With a sigh of resignation, Tom turned and headed the opposite direction, running smack into something he couldn't see.

            "Damn it Davis," Tom grumbled. "Put some clothes on." Davis muttered something about being terribly sorry and that he wouldn't do it again. Tom sighed and thrust his hands into his pockets.

            As if one invisible man wasn't trouble enough.

THE END 

* * *

A/N: Y'know this is the first story I've ever completed? Well, I hope you all liked it. I'll begin work on the **_DTG _**after a short hiatus. Again, thank you all for reading this!**__**


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